Taken
by BloodFromTheThorn
Summary: Tony had thought he was part of a team; maybe he was wrong. But he's going to need their help to get out of this one. No Slash, post movie. Tony!whump. Warning for swears. Borderline M rating.
1. Chapter 1

_This popped into my head in the middle of the night..._

_This will only be a few chapters, so don't expect a long drawn out story :) Though, I did say that TWL would be three chapters and I've already hit nine... But this will definitely only be short. I think._

* * *

In the beginning, Tony hadn't thought he would have been able to deal with being in a team like the Avengers. And not the world saving part either; he could do that no problem. What he was concerned about was actually _interacting _with these people on a daily basis; he wasn't kidding when he said he didn't play well with others. They didn't make it easy for him either – within a week after the Battle for New York they had all (with the exception of Point Break) moved into the remains of his tower and proceeded to live there despite his protests.

Tony's main concern had been the one and only Captain America. They hadn't gotten off to a great start and once they had learned more about each other it became clear that their personalities did not go together: Steve couldn't bear Tony's apparent inability to take anything seriously, and the billionaire was unable to comprehend how the soldier didn't seem to want to enjoy himself. Combine that with Tony's hatred and Steve's adoration of one Howard Stark and their relationship was going to be strained at best.

But after a while, things seemed to be getting better. Tony figured that he had actually earned some respect from the super soldier with his self sacrificing move during the battle – or if not respect, at least he'd given him cause to re-evaluate his view of the billionaire. And Tony in turn had realised that maybe he should cut Steve a little more slack – the guy had been frozen for seventy years, woken up to find his entire _life _was dead and gone and unlike so many others, he hadn't let the loss take him down or make him bitter. He was still the same hero he was before his accident, and there was a part of the billionaire that had to respect a man with that much courage.

It had only been two months since the battle but the billionaire thought that things might be looking up. Clint had a wicked sense of humour, Natasha was far less intimidating when she wasn't snapping angrily at him in Latin and Bruce provided the source of the best conversations Tony had had for quite some time. And then there was the soldier, who like it or not was warming to the billionaire.

At least that's what Tony had thought.

Tony wouldn't remember why he was trying to find Steve. He would know that he had been kicked out of his lab by an irate Bruce who had demanded he went to go eat something – apparently not eating for two day was unhealthy or something – and so the billionaire had wandered off to find the soldier. He wasn't hard to find; for all his many qualities, Steve was hardly unpredictable.

He was exactly where Tony thought he would be, only, he wasn't alone. He wasn't sure who else was there but he could hear voices from down the hall; it didn't deter the billionaire who went to march into the room as usual until he heard Steve's voice say his name. Tony never had really been able to control his curiosity and so he paused for a moment to listen – a small part of his mind told him that eavesdropping was wrong, but he politely told that voice to shut up so he could hear. And what he heard made his blood run cold.

"You actually think he deserves to be on this team? The guy's a walking disaster!"

"He saved us during the battle." Tony didn't take the time to identify who that was. "At great personal risk."

"That missile would have killed him too if he hadn't stopped it. He was selfless enough to limit the destruction to solely himself, instead of himself _and _a city. Not the most heroic thing I've heard."

"He figured out where Loki would be."

"I'm not saying he's not a genius. I'm saying that he will end up making a move that will put one of the team in danger and we shouldn't let it happen!"

"So, what? You want him off the team? Fury won't buy that and you know it. For all his faults, he's useful in a fight."

"Then let him go back to his solo gig. I just want him the hell away from the team; at least on his own he can't hurt anyone."

Tony could hear movement within the room and automatically spun on his heel and began to walk away, making sure that the people in the room didn't hear him. He couldn't breathe. His chest felt locked in ice and even the constant warmth from the arc reactor couldn't seem to thaw him out.

What had just happened? He had genuinely believed that he was making headway with the others, even making friends with them. Steve and him still had his differences, sure, but he had thought that they had at least developed an – albeit grudging – respect for each other.

'_Who are you kidding Tony?' _He thought to himself viciously. _'Why would the great Steve Rogers like you? You're nothing like your dear old dad – you're just a reminder of a world that Cap misses.' _

Tony made it halfway down to his lab before he remembered that Bruce would be down there. How ironic. He had let the team into his home and they had permeated every aspect of his life; now he didn't even have anywhere to hide. Whenever the billionaire was angry or needed space he would lock himself in his lab, his sanctuary and now even that had been taken from him, the bastards. He was trying to tell himself that this wasn't the doctor's fault – he hadn't been talking about him behind his back – but he was too annoyed to care.

"I'm going out JARVIS," he announced out loud, striding towards the lift.

"Very good Sir. Would you like me to ready one of your vehicles?"

"No, I'm walking. Don't tell the others where I am if they ask." This time there was a moment's hesitation but though the AI could talk back and act sassy, he wasn't programmed to outright disobey Tony.

"Of course Sir." When Tony reached the ground floor he suddenly realised that he didn't want to come back to this tower, full of backstabbing, fake-faced friends.

"I want to go home," he murmured to himself, stopping and closing his eyes with a sigh. "JARVIS, where are my jets?"

"One is undergoing repairs Sir and is currently unable to fly. The other has just taken Ms Potts to the board meeting in Singapore. Would you like me to recall it for you?" A very big part of the billionaire wanted to say yes but he wasn't going to leave his girlfriend stranded half way around the world.

"No. Book me a flight to Malibu, small airline, as soon as you can. Buy out the plane."

"Very good Sir. And should the others ask where you are?"

"Don't say a word until I'm back in California. After that, tell them what the hell you want. Text me details of the flight," he called before he strode out the door. Tony wasn't paying attention to where he was going; he just wanted to get _away. _Despite the act he put on for the media, in truth he was a bit of an introvert; every now and then he just needed to be alone and in the tower there was no chance of that happening.

The billionaire had the distinct impression that he was being followed and it made his skin crawl; damn Fury and his agents. He wasn't a child; he could manage a stroll down the street without causing an international disaster. His phone beeped in his pocket and he yanked it out to see flight details flash at him for later that evening – it was good timing. He could wander about for a while and then call Happy to come and pick him up to take him to the airport. In the reflection of his phone he saw the figure in the background that was the S.H.I.E.L.D agent assigned to trail him: far away enough to not look suspicious, dressed in jeans and an unimpressionable hoodie. Well, a suit and dark glasses would look a little conspicuous he supposed.

When he thought about it, he realised that he hadn't changed out of the clothes he had been wearing in the lab: a battered ACDC top and worn jeans, both with smudges of grime and motor oil on them. His face was no doubt similarly marked. Not exactly the look associated with a billionaire super hero.

'_Well fuck the lot of them,' _he thought to himself. _'I don't have to prove anything.' _

He felt the anger building inside him again and forced that line of thought to shut down immediately, taking deep breaths of the fresh air (well, as fresh as it ever got in the centre of New York) and enjoying the solitude; he was avoiding the more populated streets in favour of the quieter ones. He wished that it was silent – up in his soundproofed lab the noises of the city were shut out entirely – but he supposed that he couldn't have everything.

Where was Pepper when he needed her? What he wouldn't give to just be able to hold her right then, tell her about what had been said and just forget the world for a while. She would understand; she always did.

'_But she isn't here. Stop wishing that she was,' _he reprimanded himself harshly. It was just as he thought that when he passed the shadowed alley. He paid no mind to it; there were plenty of alleys in New York and up until now he'd never had any cause to notice them.

He yelped as a weight smashed into his side, knocking him to the sidewalk heavily. His right arm was trapped under him and it scraped against the rough surface, the skin tearing to release warm blood into the cracks while his head smacked against the concrete with a sharp snap and his vision twisted dizzyingly. The weight that had caused him to fall was on the ground beside him and acting on the training that Happy had provided, Tony smashed his free elbow up and into the shape, eliciting a grunt of pain. The arms that were pinning him down went slack and the billionaire used the increased freedom to lever himself up on his injured arm and roll away, biting his lip to stop the cry of pain that tried to claw its way free.

'_Where the _hell _is that S.H.I.E.L.D agent? Did he get bored and wander off?' _Tony cursed under his breath, blinking rapidly to try and clear his distorted vision; the world was a swirling mass of grey permeated with brightly coloured spots that danced around wildly. It took him a moment but eventually he could see enough to watch the man that had been following him running towards them, only to stop about ten metres away. _'What are you doing you asshat?' _Tony mentally screamed at him. _'Can't you see I need help?'_

His distraction had been enough time for his attacker to regain his breath and launch at the billionaire a second time. With strong hands he grabbed Tony's chin, forcing his head backwards and cracking it against the concrete for a second time while simultaneously throwing a fist into his ribs.

The last thing Tony was aware of was shouting and unknown hands lifting him from the ground.

* * *

"JARVIS, where's Tony?" Bruce didn't look up from his experiment as he shot the question at the AI.

"I have been instructed to keep Mr Stark's whereabouts a secret Dr Banner. My apologies." The funny thing was, he sounded genuinely sorry. This time Bruce did look up; that was unlike the billionaire.

"When's he coming back? He only left when I started threatening him; I figured he'd be back as soon as he could."

"I cannot comment Doctor," the AI responded.

"Can you tell me anything about his whereabouts?"

"I am afraid not Doctor." Bruce huffed, annoyed at the billionaire. He reached for his phone typing in a message rapidly and hitting send; Tony should know better than to just wander off – then again the billionaire hardly conformed to what was good for him.

By late evening when Tony still hadn't turned up the doctor was just plain worried; this kind of thing wasn't the billionaire's style. He liked to make an impression, to be noticed. So how was it that a tower full of superheroes, trained to notice even the most subtle of details had no idea where he was?

The call from Director Fury came through just as the clock passed eleven.

"Is there a situation Sir?" Steve asked, calm and collected.

"Something like that. I'm sending a quinjet to pick you up." What really alerted Banner to the problem was the way that Fury sounded _worried. _Directors of massive spy organisations weren't allowed to get worried, about _anything_; Bruce was fairly sure that if the apocalypse was nigh Fury wouldn't even blink.

"Sir... Does this have something to do with Tony?" Bruce inquired gently, the worry that had been clawing at his insides all evening rearing up and thrashing. There was a long, pregnant pause.

"...You'd all better come in."


	2. Chapter 2

Fury had gathered them in what had become known as the Avenger's Conference Room. The team sat in their usual seats, trying desperately not to focus on the empty chair at the end of the table, the one that was usually filled with their resident billionaire. When the director walked in no one said a word in greeting and Bruce only spoke to demand to know what was going on. Without a word, Fury threw a photo onto the table for the others to see.

Bruce took one glance and had to walk away from the table, gritting his teeth and mentally begging the other guy to rein it in for just another moment; he needed all the facts before he hulked out. Steve cursed under his breath and also stood, beginning to pace back and forwards, rubbing his chin. Clint and Natasha both closed their eyes and the red head automatically felt for the archer's hand to grip while Thor went pale, as still as the others had ever seen him. Eventually, once Bruce felt his heart rate begin to slow again, he spoke.

"Who did this?" The strain was audible in his tone but the others could hardly blame him; the friendship between the scientists was well know and the doctor required more control than most.

"We don't know. After a _long _conversation with JARVIS we were able to determine roughly when Tony last left the tower."

"Why couldn't JARVIS just tell you?" Steve looked puzzled.

"Tony's an idiot who thought it would be a good idea to take off but not before ordering JARVIS to keep his whereabouts a secret," the doctor told him, irritation for his friend brewing. When he next saw the billionaire he was going to punch him.

Despite his best efforts the doctor felt his eyes trailing back to the photo on the table, taking in the shadowy picture of his friend and wincing when he saw again the state he was in. There was a gash above his eye that had left a trail of blood down his face, his lip was split and multiple bruises covered his face and exposed torso. His hands were behind his back, presumably tied to the chair he was sat on. The confused, disorientated expression on Tony's face combined with the obvious evidence of a beating made it clear that he had a concussion. The most horrifying detail though was the gaping hole in his chest where the arc reactor should be, replaced by live wires without rubber casing, leaving the copper strands bare and unprotected. It looked like it was more likely to kill him than save him.

"So we know when he was taken," he bit out slowly, his voice low and dangerous. "How _exactly _does that help us?" Fury, for the first time, looked completely helpless. They had nothing to go on.

"Director Fury, a video call is coming through for you," a nameless female voice over the intercom said softly. Thor and Steve both jumped, still not completely alright with the modern technology and already on edge.

"The council?" He asked in surprise, ignoring the team for a moment.

"No Sir, an unidentified source."

"Then _why _are you telling me? Field it to someone who _isn't _busy," he snapped irritated. For a moment the line was silent, probably while the poor agent gathered her courage.

"Sir... They are claiming to have Tony Stark."

* * *

When Tony woke up he immediately wished that he could fall asleep again. His head pounded viciously, far worse than any hangover he had ever had – and that was saying something. Everything was stiff, as though he hadn't moved in a while and there was a sharp tugging pain at his wrists that he knew meant that he was bound to something; which also explained the incessant aching in his shoulders.

'_What have you done this time Tony?' _He questioned himself in a mental voice that sounded not unlike Pepper's. _'Who else have you pissed off?' _That wasn't something he could answer quickly so he ignored the voice and tried to pay attention to what his body was telling – screaming at – him.

He cracked his eyes open to try and work out where he was but the light felt like knives being driven into his skull and he slammed his lids closed again with a groan. Moving had been a mistake and his head throbbed in time with his heart while his stomach lurched uncomfortably.

"Back with us, Mr Stark?" A cold voice said quietly, off to the side. The billionaire tried to find the strength to swear at him but the effort was too much and his stomach rebelled. He tried to lean over as he dry heaved painfully – he hadn't eaten in so long that there was nothing left to come up – his stomach convulsing and churning while he gagged helplessly. He groaned again when the spasms stopped and the voice chuckled. "I do apologise for your... condition. The concussion was not planned."

"Go fuck yourself," he spat as he panted, still trying to regain his breath. He twisted around again so that his weight was centred over the chair he was tied to, forcing himself to open his eyes to look around and try and work out where he was.

"So confrontational. It's really very rude," the voice said again lightly, as though they were having a casual conversation about the weather. Tony growled.

"Who the _hell _are you?" The billionaire glared in the direction the voice was coming from; in the shadowed room he couldn't only just make out the figure of a man. Apart from that the space appeared to be empty – it was more than a little creepy.

"That isn't important."

"The hell it isn't. Who are you and why did you bring me here?" Whilst he spoke he strained at the bindings that held him there until pain lanced up his forearm. Shit, what part of him _wasn't _injured? He cursed softly.

"You would do well to remain still."

"I rarely do anything that would be good for me. Ask my friends. They'll be here any minute now." He tried to sound confident of this fact but in his head he could hear Steve's voice saying how he shouldn't be part of the team.

'_Why should the great Captain America give a damn about what happens to a little, insignificant shit like me? Hell knows my father didn't care and he was a blood relation. Steve Rogers couldn't care less about my well being.' _He wasn't really sure why he was torturing himself; the way this situation was going his captors would do enough of that for him.

"I don't think your friends will be able to make it, I'm afraid," the voice informed him, sounding positively gleeful. "We're not that easy to find you see."

"Well, they're pretty good at what they do. I'm sure they'll manage." The nameless voice laughed.

"I hope you keep that optimism, it'll make this all so much more entertaining." The billionaire struggled valiantly to fight off the shiver that crawled up his spine but he couldn't help it; it didn't sound like this conversation was going anywhere pleasant.

"Can you at least give me something to call you? 'The voice' is getting a little old." His captor chuckled softly.

"Very well, you may call me Quaru."

"That's a bit of a mouthful," Tony observed. Now that he'd had a minute, his thoughts were realigning and he was able to make more sense of things. "Mind if I stick with Q?"

"If it makes you feel more comfortable."

"Yeah the bindings and the concussion told me all about how my comfort is your main concern." Q chuckled again, sounding genuinely amused instead of just ominous.

"That mouth will be the death of you."

"So I've been told."

"I've always imagined that a superhero's downfall would be his heart. They always _care _too much. It makes them weak," Q spat at him, suddenly switching to angry and dangerous; Tony struggled to follow the rapid mood swing.

"I'm not much of a superhero."

"No, maybe not. But your heart is still your weakness," Quaru mused, sounding like he was smiling before he called out to someone Tony couldn't see in a language he didn't speak. Suddenly there were men at either side of him, poking at the reactor clearly visible in his bare chest. He flinched away from their probing fingers but there was nowhere to run and he started panicking, thrashing about and shouting.

When the glowing piece of metal was pried from its casing, he felt a chill run through him and he went completely still.

'_Oh god, no. No, not like this. Please, oh god.' _His thoughts ended up as incoherent pleas as his mind began to drift, vision darkening until he couldn't see anything at all.

* * *

When he came to it was to the sight of the all too familiar wires snaking out of his chest and the notable absence of blue light. He had to take a moment to remind himself not to cry. Apart from the obvious lack of a reactor he didn't seem to have obtained any further injury, although his neck ached from the position he had been slumped in.

"Whatever you want with my reactor, I can guarantee that you won't get it," he bit out after taking a moment to compose himself. It might have looked like he was talking to thin air but he somehow knew that Quaru was still in the room.

"Maybe I don't want anything from it."

"That would make taking it a very pointless endeavour."

"I could have been proving a point to you."

"Then it was still a pointless endeavour. I remain unenlightened." Tony was trying his very best to remain calm and composed but his eyes kept straying back to the wires dangling from his chest and each time his mind was teleported back to a cave in the mountains with a long gone friend's voice talking him through it. But not this time. Now he was alone.

"I think that it made it clear _who _is in charge here Mr Stark."

"You kidnapped me, took my shirt and tied me to a chair. It was pretty damn clear."

"And yet you still can't watch that mouth of yours..." Q lamented with faux sadness. Tony growled wordlessly as he watched a mammoth of a man stride towards him with clenched fists. "I guess we'll just have to help you with that."

The beating was short but merciless. By the end Tony's vision was a mix of dancing spots and his head pounded so badly that it took him several minutes to realise that Q was talking again. The billionaire ignored him, trying to get his thoughts together. His ribcage was aching from the blows it had suffered and he was winded, panting to breathe while blood dripped from his split lip and the gash above his eyebrow – the bastard was wearing a ring that had torn through the skin easily.

While he was dozing, trying to regain his confidence he thought he heard the click of a camera but through the blood pounding in his ears it was hard to tell. When he came back around he wasn't entirely sure how much time had passed. Quaru was still there, lingering in the shadows like a bad smell.

"I think it's time to see your friends again, don't you?" Tony had to spit out some blood before he was able to talk.

"What are you talking about?" His voice slurred dangerously; his mind wasn't keeping up too well with the conversation.

Q stepped forwards into the light cast by the single light bulb above the billionaire, gesturing to a stand that had been placed a few metres in front of him that held a small screen and a crude video camera.

"Now, be on your best behaviour Mr Stark."

With the press of a button, the screen flickered into life and even the dazed billionaire perked up a bit when he saw an image of the team and Fury swim into view.

"Tony!" Bruce sounded like he was on the verge of hulking out. The billionaire smiled in genuine relief, determined to focus on the doctor and ignoring the muscled figure of Steve in the background; that was a problem he really didn't have the strength to face right now.

"Are you alright?" The director looked as close to worried as Tony had ever seen him.

"I've been better," he replied but he said it with his trademark grin – or as close as he could get with a split lip. Off to the side, out of view of the camera Q scoffed. "Feel free to introduce yourself Quaru," the billionaire said, making the effort to make sure that the name was audible. It was probably fake but he was determined to give the team anything he could if it meant getting out of this hell hole.

Someone else stepped out of the shadows and Tony blacked out for a second as he was brutally pistol whipped, his head snapping to the side. There were shouts of protest from the screen as the billionaire glared at the man that had hit him.

"Tony?"

"Still here. I don't think these guys like me," he deadpanned.

"No shit," Clint replied, but his voice didn't sound quite as sarcastic as usual, levelled with the seriousness of the situation.

"That's enough chatter I think," Q announced quietly. He clicked at the man who had hit Tony and said something in that foreign language. "Time to get to business. I believe that Stark here is familiar with how this works. You give me what I want and he doesn't suffer." The billionaire's heart was racing, slamming painfully against bruised ribs but he kept his face emotionless and calm; had he been able he would have feigned casualness but he couldn't quite do it.

'_Come on Tony, get it together. You can do this. You can do this.' _He repeated it like a mantra.

"And what is it you want?" Steve sounded thoroughly furious, madder than Tony had ever seen but the billionaire only looked at the soldier for a moment before he diverted his gaze back to Bruce.

"My... _sources _informed me of the weapons that S.H.I.E.L.D produced before the invasion in New York. HYDRA weapons. My associates and I would benefit from such tech." The billionaire felt bile rise in his throat and not simply from the disgust at the man talking. He knew what those demands would mean; Fury couldn't just hand over the weapons which wasn't exactly good news for the ongoing survival of one Tony Stark.

'_You can do this.'_

"I can't do that." Fury didn't look at him, wouldn't meet Tony's eyes. Quaru just laughed softly as the henchman he had sent away earlier carried in a massive basin – helped by several others – and placed it between the billionaire and the screen.

"Such a shame. I really was hoping that you'd just agree and save me from having to do this."

Tony didn't say a word, couldn't, even if he wanted to. As soon as the basin had been put down he had been given an uninterrupted view at its contents: water. With ice floating in it. He could practically feel the cold emanating from the pool and he shuddered. He knew that his face had gone pale and there was probably someone trying to catch his attention but all he could see was the water and oh god this was just like before.

His chest would spark in the water, burning him. The ice would burn down his throat and settle in his lungs until the muscles went numb and even when they pulled him from the water he wouldn't be able to breathe.

'_You can do this. You can do this.' _The billionaire looked down at the water again, letting the memories wash over him in crushing waves, terror tearing apart his heart and laying everything he was out to be observed.

'_Oh Tony,' _a voice in his head murmured. _'No you really can't.'_

* * *

_Mwahaha. Thanks for all the support :) You rock. _


	3. Chapter 3

_Just as a note, I can't reply to reviews for some reason. Sorry about that. Thanks for all the support :)_

_TWL and AY readers, new updates are on the way, I promise. Sorry about the wait :/  
_

_FYI some of this could be distressing. Just a heads up._

* * *

Tony was yanked from the chair, not being spared the brutality and was forced to his knees in front of the basin. His heart was slamming into his ribs and his lungs seemed to be incapable of expanding while he tried to gasp for air. His eyes rolled in his head. At least someone had thought to bring the battery connected to his chest with him.

'_Calm down Tony,' _he told himself desperately, knowing that he had to stop panicking or he would be in serious trouble very quickly.

It was hard to hear beyond the roar in his ears but he was vaguely aware of the voices from the video feed yelled helplessly; was someone shouting for him? Quaru was still there, a dark presence behind him that lingered when all Tony wanted was solitude.

"_Tony Stark!" _That was loud and desperate enough to snap him out of his blind terror for a moment and he blinked up at the screen. He had to crane his neck awkwardly from his new position but neither of the thugs holding his arms moved to make the movement easier. The entire team were on their feet, faces pale and tight with rage; Bruce was trembling in the background, eyes an electric green. For a moment the billionaire scrambled to find his voice and draw on his endless snark.

"I..." He swallowed. "I'm okay." He couldn't even try to make it sound convincing.

"Tony, hang in there." That was Steve; the billionaire ignored him entirely. A vicious part of his mind started to snap at him – telling him to keep his backstabbing lies to himself – but he clenched his jaw to stop the words escaping. For a moment he closed his eyes, digging inside himself for some courage – the strength to see this through. He pictured Pepper, his Pepper and then he forced himself to consider the consequences of giving in. Q would get his weapons and he would turn them on the rest of the world: on Pepper, Rhodes, Happy, the team, _anyone _who got in their way. He could not let that happen.

"Fury," he bit out, forcing himself to look at the director. "You give Quaru those guns and I'll kill you myself." Quaru snapped something behind him, sounding furious and the men holding his arms were suddenly pulling him up and forwards, his upper body now held forcefully over the icy water despite his violent thrashing.

"Don't do this!" Someone shouted but the panic was back and Tony could no longer work out who it was. His thoughts flitted like butterflies caught in a gale.

'_Breathe Tony. For god's sake _breathe_.' _But he couldn't. His lungs had locked and he couldn't draw in the air he would so desperately need.

There was a moment of stillness and utter silence, where the world held its breath and Tony's heart faltered in sheer terror.

And then he was in the water.

He thrashed violently, throwing his shoulders back to try and get his head out of the water but a heavy hand forced him back down. The open circuits in his chest hit the liquid and fire seared through him as sparks jumped across the metal; his back arched automatically to draw the device out of the water even though it pushed his face deeper into the basin.

At least he had had the sense to close his mouth when his face hit the water; there was still air in his lungs.

'_Keep calm Tony. You're heart is beating too fast. You'll be drowning soon unless you stop panicking.' _He hadn't known that he was still capable of logical thought processes but obviously his subconscious was doing better than the rest of his brain so he tried to listen to it. It wasn't exactly easy though to calm down when his face and shoulders were going numb from the extreme cold and his lungs were starting to burn for air.

'_You're alright. You can hold your breath for two minutes remember? And the dive reflex will slow your heart rate right down. All you have to do is relax.' _He continued to listen to the voice, doing his best to calm himself. Shivers had begun to rack through his body but he ordered his muscles to relax, with limited success.

The last time he had done this he had been a naive billionaire who had never tried to look at the worst in humanity. Since then, he had seen the battlefield. He had fought and bled to protect the people and he had finally learned who he was and what he had to do. This was just one more price to pay.

'_I'm not who I once was. I can do this,' _he told himself with a determination he hadn't known he possessed.

He let his body go limp, a ruse he had learned the last time. These men wouldn't actually drown him – they needed him far too much. So as soon as he stopped struggling they would yank him from the water to check that they hadn't gone too far.

It worked. The hand holding him down heaved him back and someone leaned in close to his face, grabbing his jaw to keep him still. He spat some of the icy water into his face.

The man cursed and someone slammed a fist into the side of his face, forcing him sideways while Q continued to shout orders and instructions from the background. In the confusion Tony thought he heard Clint emit an astounded laugh. Coughing, the billionaire glanced around him as best he could before the men were pulling him upright again from where he had fallen; even with the expanded view there was nothing he could see in the room that would help him.

"You still there Tony?" His gaze flitted to the screen again, automatically noting the absence of Bruce and Natasha. He really hoped that the doctor hadn't lost control; S.H.I.E.L.D already wanted him to be locked away somewhere and breaking another helicarrier probably wouldn't help their case much. Unable to find the air to speak, he nodded mutely. "Hang in there, alright?" Did Fury actually sound worried about him? A slightly hysterical giggle broke through his lips at the thought.

"Have you rethought your position Director?" Quaru sounded like he was smiling, the smug bastard. Tony cursed him to hell. If he was lucky, maybe he would be able to send him there himself once he had managed to get himself free.

"He won't give you... _anything,_" the billionaire panted, still recovering from his dunking. Another fist found its mark, this time in his stomach, doubling him over with a gasp for air.

"You should listen to him you know," Fury said, glaring in the direction of Q's voice. Tony hated the way his heart sank at those words. "But stop this. Return Stark to us now and we will show leniency, you have my word." If he hadn't known the man, the billionaire would have thought he was telling the truth; damn that man had the best poker face in the world. Quaru laughed.

"Even if I was inclined to believe you, I doubt that your little band of _heroes,_" he spat the word like it was venom, "would just leave me be. So I don't think that I will take that offer, if it's all the same to you. Dunk him." The command was said without warning and Tony was suddenly in the water again with only half a breath of air in his lungs.

'_Fool!' _He berated himself, forcing his mouth to remain closed and not scream in the way he wanted to. He couldn't relax this time, he was too panicked. His body jerked out of his control, fighting the restraining hands with all he had, regardless of the fact that he was using up valuable oxygen.

By the time they pulled him out again his vision had darkened down to vague shadows and shaped and his face was burning from the cold. He had long since lost himself to shaking in a primal attempt to generate warmth. The wires in his chest were sparking wildly, burning him and causing his heart rate to jump erratically while he twitched helplessly.

And so it continued. He lost track of time soon enough until his world narrowed down to the water and the ice and the pain, where oxygen was more valuable than diamonds and the hands holding him became both hated and feared with everything he had. The first gulp of the water he had taken – involuntarily, when something hit his back hard, winding him – had hit his lungs like a thousand knives, stabbing and slicing him open for all the world to see. His ribs ached and the icy chill bled through him until he couldn't feel anything but the pain.

'_I don't care what you think of me Rogers. Just please, _please, _get me out of here. I'll leave. You won't have to see me again. Just please, _help _me.' _He wasn't really sure why it was the Captain that his mind was pleading to – maybe because he was technically the leader? – but at that stage, he didn't really care. He just wanted out.

He wouldn't remember passing out.

* * *

Fury watched with clenched fists as the unconscious billionaire was strapped back into the chair, his hands tightly fastened behind him. The director could make himself look calm and could convince anyone that he was collected and composed but right now he wanted to scream. And punch something. Preferably this Quaru person.

"You really would do better if you co-operated Director," the disembodied voice told him, sounding almost as if he regretted what he had done. What he wouldn't give for the little shit to show his face.

"I could say the same. Give us Stark."

"Now why would I do that?" The director's eyes spat sparks and he appeared too angry to talk.

"Because that's the only way you'll survive," the Captain pointed out to cover for Fury while he calmed himself. "Whatever you do to Tony now, we _will _find you. And the only way you have a chance is if you return our team member." His voice was level with a mask of faux calm, even though there was a large part of him that just wanted to run for a few hours to get the fury out of his system. Q chuckled.

"How quaint. You actually think you could take me down. I am hardly defenseless and there are only five of you now."

"With or without Tony we can still kick your ass," Clint supplied from the back of the room, fingering one of his arrows while he imagined driving the tip through the man's skull. It was a surprisingly satisfying image.

"I'm sure that you want to try." Q laughed again. "But I have business to attend to. You'll be hearing from me," he assured them just before the feed went dead.

There was a long moment when no one moved. Eventually Thor shifted uncomfortably from the wall he was leaning against, flexing his fingers around Mjölnir – a nervous habit of his.

"We must save the Man of Iron. He does not deserve this fate." His voice was as loud as ever but was still subdued with the horror of what they had just been forced to watch.

"Agent Hill," Fury snapped into his communicator. "Did you manage to trace the link?"

"I..." She hesitated for a moment, talking to someone they couldn't see. "The signal was being bounced off several satellites to try and be untraceable but we had long enough to narrow it down to a few kilometers squared of land."

"Where?" He snapped at her, irrationally annoyed that they couldn't give him the exact coordinates right then. She relayed the intel quickly, fearful of her boss' wrath. "What imaging do we have for the area?"

"I'm sending the most recent satellite images through Sir."

The screen lit up with aerial pictures of what looked like untouched desert. It was in Nevada somewhere but the images didn't show any above ground buildings or even any people – there was nothing that screamed habitation.

"We have Agents in the area who are reporting that they haven't seen anything unusual in the area recently," Hill informed them.

"It doesn't matter. We still have to go." Clint didn't look at any of them, just continued fiddling with the arrow in his hands, a steely determination on his face and in his tone. "We can't leave him to those animals. Even if he isn't there, we might find something." Steve nodded at him, looking to the Director for any protestations. Fury just looked round at the three of them – Romanoff and Banner still hadn't returned – then slowly, he nodded.

"Agent Barton, go and ready a quinjet. Captain Rogers and Thor, if you could find the other members of your team and inform them of these developments. Be sure to be... _gentle _with Dr Banner." The three men nodded and darted out the room, leaving the Director alone. He sighed to himself softly, looking back at the screen that still showed the satellite images, his one good eye darting over the display trying to find something to give the team to work with. They could be as optimistic as they liked but with nothing to go on... it didn't look promising.

* * *

Banner was sat on the edge of his seat a bottle of water clenched his hands so tightly he was surprised that it hadn't exploded already. He didn't like flying much; the idea of being in a metal container thousands of feet in the air with other people didn't sound like a great plan for someone who might turn green and try to kill them. The helicarrier incident had been proof enough of that. That said, if it was the fastest way of getting to Tony, he wasn't about to complain.

"Bruce, you need to relax," Steve murmured to him, considerately keeping his voice down so that Thor, who was across the other side of the quinjet couldn't hear. Clint and Natasha were both in the forward section, pushing the jet as fast as it would go.

"I know. I'm okay," he reassured with a half-hearted smile and a shrug. The Captain looked unconvinced but let the matter drop and the cabin lapsed into silence once more. Banner didn't know how long they stayed like that, perfectly still in various positions of stress but to him it felt like months until Natasha turned in her seat and shouted back to them to buckle in.

They landed with a jolt and Bruce felt some of the tension in him bleed out now that they were back on solid ground. The door opened and the team slipped out into the stifling heat of the desert. The hulk grumbled appreciatively in the back of the doctor's mind – the beast had always liked warm weather.

"What now then?" Clint aimed the question at the Captain, who was looking through the hazy air like he was lost.

"Agent Hill said there were agents in the area. They know this place better than we do, we should be in contact with them," he said eventually. Natasha immediately pulled out her communicator and started snapping orders into it.

Bruce looked around the landscape with a sense of desperation. There was no sign of anything, nothing that could lead them to their friend. The Hulk was just beneath the surface, roaring and growling, furious at the men that though they could take 'tin man' – it would have been endearing if it hadn't worried Banner so much.

"The agents are coming to us now. They think they might know where to look." Natasha slipped the hand held communicator into her suit.

"How long?" Steve asked her, frowning.

"A few minutes. They saw us land and set of straight away."

"We'll find him Cap," Clint told him, clapping a hand to his shoulder. "I swear. We'll find him."


	4. Chapter 4

_I had emotions writing this, so it's a little heavy going. Usual warnings for swears and violence etc._

* * *

Tony regained consciousness with a jolt and a gasp that rapidly turned into a moan of pain as his body erupted into agony. His lungs rattled ominously as he cursed under his breath, trying to force his sluggish mind to focus on what was happening. After a minute the memories of the previous few days trickled back and he sighed, scrunching his eyes up in pure desperation when he realised that he was still bound to the chair in this godforsaken room. It took everything he had to not cry.

"I must admit, I'm actually quite impressed." Stark groaned again.

"I'm getting tired of waking up to your enigmatic statements Q," he warned softly, not raising his eyes from his lap. He doubted that his captor would show his face at this stage – he hadn't done before.

"And here I thought that you were starting to like me," Quaru responded with mock offence. Tony spat in his vague direction. "So rude. Hardly befitting someone of your standing."

"I'm a prisoner at your mercy," Stark reminded him, trying to sound braver than he felt; the effect was somewhat dampened by the rasping of his voice. "What standing are you referring to?" Quaru laughed, a deep full sound that instantly set the billionaire on edge.

"You have the standing of a man who is of importance to me. You should be thankful for that at least; I assure you I am not keeping you around for your irrepressible wit." Stark snorted. "You seem remarkably resilient to my... ministrations. I had not expected such defiance." With that, any tone of levity left the room in a flash. Tony looked up to glower at the source of the voice, genuine rage filling him and suppressing the pain that was still coursing through him; what he wouldn't give for his headache to fade so he could think straight.

"I wouldn't underestimate me Q. The Ten Rings did that," he hissed, looking menacing despite the wounds and the ropes that bound him. "I burned them all."

There was a long stretch of silence and Stark felt the anger bleeding from his limbs, far too exhausted to try and sustain such emotion. He sagged back into the chair and took stock of his situation. There was a definite concussion leading to an aching head and nausea. Something was wrong with his left forearm – possible cracked ulna? Multiple face injuries and aching ribs from his beating. Burns in his chest from the live wires. He lost himself for a moment as he categorically listed his injuries, all the while trying to avoid thinking of the way he was struggling to breathe.

That was the thing about water boarding. Once they pulled you out the water, you'd think that you would be alright – you'll warm up and be on your merry way. Except you weren't. The water would fill your lungs and unless you had the strength to cough it up it would sit there, aching and cold and painful; leave it too long without treatment and it could very well kill you. Every now and then it would trigger a reflex and his epiglottis would snap shut to try and stop anything else from entering his already strained lungs, including air; how ironic that something meant to keep you safe could turn on you and there was absolutely nothing you could do about it.

He swallowed viciously, annoyed at himself for letting his thoughts stray.

'_The team will come for you. Even Steve wouldn't leave you to this fate.' _If that was the best his self motivation could get then Pepper was right, he desperately needed a therapist.

"I think that it's time to hear from your friends again, don't you?" Q asked eventually and without waiting for a response the screen in front of Tony flickered to life. After a moment the static flashes faded and he was once again faced with the meeting room and the stoic face of Nick Fury, the only difference being that this time he was alone.

"Stark?" He asked instantly and for a moment the billionaire wondered if the man genuinely didn't give a shit about him or it he was just that good at hiding his emotions.

'_Probably the former,' _he told himself viciously but thrust the thought aside; he didn't want to deal with it now, or ever, if he could help it. Either way, he just nodded at the director - he lacked the energy to summon sufficient wit for a conversation.

"How nice to see you again director," Q called from the shadows, his voice slick with venom. Tony found himself automatically glancing around for the basin of water but to his undying relief he couldn't see it.

"My offer still stands Quaru," Fury said quietly. "Let Stark go and your cooperation will be reflected in your sentencing."

"Like the Avengers are going to let me live. Please, don't insult me. Speaking of which, where is your little band of freaks?" Tony hissed through his teeth but didn't comment. Fury just glared wordlessly, folding his arms tightly across his chest. "Ah, I don't suppose you'll tell me. Never mind. I only need Stark."

"You must know that I'll never hand over these weapons. Why are you doing this?" Tony sent the director a look that was meant to be interpreted as what-the-hell-are-you-doing-are-you-_trying_-to-get-me-killed? Q just laughed.

"Maybe I'm placing my bets on the slim chance that you actually have a heart. Or maybe I just like causing pain. I'll leave it for you to decide. Right now, I'm giving you one last chance to save your beloved Iron Man." All of a sudden Q was at his side and Tony was given his first glimpse of the man, albeit limited by the mask that he had covering his face; it didn't really matter, the billionaire was more preoccupied by the 9mm pistol he was gripping loosely in one hand.

"Killing me won't get you what you want," he said, trying to sound mocking but his voice trembled a little. He glared at his captor all the same.

"Actually, right now, all I'm seeking is gratification."

Fury was still talking somewhere in the background but Stark really couldn't be bothered to try and pay attention to him. The barrel of the gun pressed softly against his temple and he found that he was trembling; he'd never felt so helpless.

"Director. You refuse to give me the weapons?" Tony already knew the answer but when he saw Fury shake his head, he still felt a little betrayed.

'_Do this for Pepper, Tony. If Q gets his weapons then she'll die. Everyone will die. You have to die to let them live.' _He closed his eyes tightly, trying to picture the woman he loved for his last moments.

"Tony." He willed Nick to go away for just a moment. Couldn't a man die in peace? Still, he opened his eyes to look at the director again, trying to steel himself against his own fears. "I'm sorry." The billionaire nodded once, ignoring the aching in his head as he did so.

"Oh how quaint. A touching goodbye." Tony swore to God that if his friends didn't make Q suffer he would come back and haunt them out of spite. Son of a bitch deserved everything the team would do to him in revenge. He growled wordlessly at the man who just chuckled that sadistic little laugh again; Stark's skin crawled. "Maybe we should extend this little conversation..." Before either of the others could even try to understand what he meant, the gun was moving away from Tony's temple and spitting a bullet into his thigh.

A strangled yell of pain burst from his lips and his vision blacked out for a moment as the small lump of metal tore a hole through his flesh. He could distantly feel the warm pooling of blood but he couldn't even register that beyond the waves of fire that poured from the injured limb. His mouth was moving but all that came out were whimpers and cries of pain, distorted and incoherent.

For several long moments that could have been years Tony wasn't able to register anything outside of himself and the realm of agony he now found himself in. He was brought back slightly when a loud clanging sound of a metal door erupted into the room before silence fell again and he drifted again. Eventually he found he was able to breathe again and he could start to hear properly past the rushing of blood in his ears.

Someone was talking – it sounded soothing so it was probably Fury (well it certainly wasn't Q, so who else could it be?) – and it took him a moment to tune into what was being said.

"Stark, I need you to talk to me."

"Guhel..." He murmured, as close as 'go to hell' as he could get in his state. He'd been _shot _and Fury wanted a _chat? _Was the man literally insane?

"Tony, I know it hurts. Trust me, I know, I've been there. But if I'm going to be of any help, you have to talk to me. Are you alone in the room?" The billionaire didn't do anything for a moment, debating whether or not he cared enough to look around. He could feel a weakness tugging on his limbs and his eyelids felt that they were made of lead. Still, he fought against the fatigue and picked his head up carefully, rolling it backwards and forwards to try and make out any figures in the gloom but coming up empty; Quaru was gone. When the activity pulled at his leg he swore aloud, collapsing back into the chair with a moan of pain.

"I'm alone," he muttered softly once he got his breath back.

"You're sure?" Tony shrugged back, too tired to care. "Stark! You have to stay awake, you hear me? Now tell me about the wound."

"Whaa...?" The billionaire glared at Fury. Yep, that guy was psychologically disturbed. If he ever got himself out of this mess, he was forcing him to go and see a shrink.

"Tell me," the director ordered, slipping into his 'official tone.' Stark just continued to glare for a moment, then spat out:

"I got shot. It hurts. It's bleeding."

"Yes, I know. Give me details. How much is it bleeding?"

"I was fucking _shot _you psychopath!" He exploded suddenly with an energy he didn't think he still had left. "How much do you think it's fucking bleeding?" Just as suddenly as it had appeared the adrenaline rush left him and his head dropped to rest on his chest, all his strength gone, bled away onto the floor below him. With the come down, he realised that he actually felt a little bad for his outburst.

'_Tony Stark feels guilty? Well, isn't that novel? When hasn't Tony Stark done something to feel guilty about?'_

"It's bleeding a lot. But there's no arterial spray so it's not as bad as it could be," he said eventually, staring at the wound with a sort of detached curiosity. If he was still, the pain wasn't quite as all consuming and he found that he could sort of concentrate. It wasn't like he was about to start spieling out algorithms or anything but he could make conversation; it was something.

"Is the bone broken?"

"I don't think so but to be honest, I'm not sure that my opinion should be trusted at... this... stage," he muttered, his voice drifting off as he consciousness suddenly dimmed dramatically. Fury snapped something at him and he jolted a little; the agony the movement caused woke him up instantly.

"Stark for someone who suffers from severe insomniac tendencies, you suck at staying awake," the director deadpanned. Tony was too tired to even try and glare.

* * *

"The signal is back!" Everyone's heads snapped up at that, turning five sets of desperate and furious eyes on the S.H.I.E.L.D agent that had spoken. The young man gulped under the intensity. "That signal we picked up from the previous call? It's back." He held up a little handheld gadget to Steve – the nearest Avenger to him – as proof. The Captain just blinked at the screen; the flashing lights and streams of data meant nothing to him.

"You can trace it?" He asked and the agent nodded, looking pleased with himself. Within minutes they had a direction to go in and the team found themselves tearing over the dry terrain like devils unleashed.

"It's here! The signal is coming from here!" The agent informed them after a minute. They all looked around in confusion; there was absolutely nothing there.

"I don't understand," Thor stated quietly, gripping Mjölnir so tightly that his knuckles had turned white with the pressure. Steve just looked back at him, that crushing helplessness that he had been fighting all this time collapsing on him, dropping him to his knees.

"Wait, there's..." Banner trailed off, swivelling his head from side to side with his eyes closed. "The other guy can _smell _something," he announced.

"What?"

"I don't know. I don't think he really knows but there's something here that isn't just desert." He paused for a moment then cursed. Even Natasha and Clint, masters of the poker face, frowned slightly; none of them had ever heard Bruce swear before. "I have to change. The information is too distorted for me to make out." With his heightened hearing, Steve heard the S.H.I.E.L.D agents that had accompanied them all gulp softly.

"You sure that that's a good idea?"

"Do you have a better one?"

"No."

"Then stop talking. If he becomes a danger to anyone who isn't one of the people holding Tony, I'm sure that you and Thor can take me – err, him – down." Steve grimaced at the doctor but wasn't offered further opportunity to disagree as an electric green tore across the smaller man's skin and an animalistic growling filled the air until before them stood one giant green rage monster.

The Hulk looked around and roared loudly – Steve thought that his eardrums had just ruptured – then darted sideways, moving straight passed the team members around him as though they weren't there. The rest of the Avengers trailed after him slowly while the agents just looked at each other, clearly unsure what they were meant to do.

"Stay here. Call in backup. Have a medical team prepped and ready for anything," Steve snapped at them just before he followed after the others. They caught up to the Hulk just as he was pounding at the ground in a seemingly random patch of Earth, growling all the while as the rest of the team looked on in confusion.

"Anyone have any idea what he's doing?" Clint asked, flexing his fingers around his bow. As he spoke the Hulk looked up and roared at them, spit flying from his mouth as he glared at them before pounding on the ground again.

For a moment, nothing at all happened, then there was a strange cracking sound and the horrendous screaming of tearing metal. The team winced. The Hulk backed off a little, offering his twisted version of a smile, allowing the others access to his handiwork and they all gathered around eagerly.

What Steve had previously thought was common earth turned out to be nothing of the sort. Buried under a thin layer of dust there was a metal plate, about four metres wide and six metres long and at least a foot thick. The Hulk had managed to pound the metal until it gave under the immense force, tearing off at one side and folding in like a door might.

But what made Steve grin and Clint whoop for joy? The shaft just below the metal plate, complete with ladder and underground security lights. An entrance.

* * *

_In response to the review from __**Margaret**__: In the beginning of the first Iron Man film Tony is taken captive by a terrorist group called the Ten Rings who order him to make them a Jericho missile. He refuses and they torture him – in the film they show that he is water boarded (nothing graphic cause it's only a 12A). Hence the wide range of fics that involve said torture :) Hope that helps. _

_Anyways, today's going to be a bit of a long AN. Apologies._

_The reason this took so long is because I hit a massive bout of writers block. I tried to fix this with a Morgana (Merlin BBC) fic and it didn't work. So I watched the entire first two seasons of Wallander (BBC version – I don't speak Swedish) which resulted in loads of plot bunnies for said programme but nothing for Avengers. I then watched the second and third episodes of The Hollow Crown (also BBC – Parts one and two of Henry IV) which for the record is AWESOME. But all that happened was I spent about two days speaking in Shakespearian English. So that went well. I think however, that I am back. Maybe._

_**This bit is sort of important: **__The other thing I want to mention is how this story is going to go. I'm sticking to the 'this fic won't be too long,' though currently for me anything below 15 is short. I think that this will be about seven chapters – which is really annoying cause I like fics to be a round number (5, 10, 15 etc.) but anyway. My current issue is that I have two separate ways of resolving this story. One is a complete cop out but is simple and easy to write. The other is more complicated and will probably mean that this fic will take longer. However, in my opinion the second option would make for a more comprehensible story line but that said, I'm not the one who has to read the damn thing. Opinions? Thoughts? I really want to know :)_

_Apart from that, the support that I've had for this story is incredible. I'm genuinely touched. _Thank you.

_Ok, 390 word AN. I think that that's a new record for me. I'll leave you to get on with your day now. _


	5. Chapter 5

Clint wasn't entirely sure what to expect when he reached the bottom of the ladder but a long corridor sweeping off into the darkness in both directions wasn't exactly it. Shouldn't there be guards or something?

He slipped his bow off his shoulders and deftly knocked an arrow – nothing fancy, in an enclosed space he couldn't risk explosions for fear of hurting one of the team. As the others made their way down the ladder behind him he glanced from left to right, trying to peer through the gloom down either tunnel to see if he could determine the way to go.

"Which way?" He muttered to Cap quietly just as Natasha reached them.

"Absolutely no idea." He hesitated briefly, then ordered: "Split up." Steve glanced around at the team gathered there then looked back up to the hatch to see Hulk poking his head over the lip of the hole. In that form he was too large to fit through the tunnel and so he was forced to remain behind; the roars and grunts coming from him told the others exactly how he felt about that. Rogers sighed deeply and looked around the four of them. "Clint and Thor go that way," he pointed down the tunnel on his left. "Tasha and I will go this way."

The others didn't comment, just took off in their designated directions. The tension surrounding them was palpable and if they all looked a little more pale than normal, no one was going to comment on it.

Clint moved as fast as he was able, his heart racing in a way that had nothing to do with the physical exertion and everything to do with the terror that was clawing at his stoic exterior. Over the course of his life he had seen plenty of people die under traumatic circumstances: tortured, beaten, broken. But the idea of that happening to Tony? It was too much to bear, especially with the knowledge that this wasn't even the first time someone had hurt him for their own gain.

'_Find him Clint,' _he told himself sternly as him and Thor raced down the dim tunnel. _'Just get him home.'_

* * *

"Stark, please, just keep talking. You're good at that." Tony didn't have the energy to decide whether that should offend him or not so he ignored it. Fury was actually starting to sound less calm and more oh-god-he's-really-dying-and-there's-nothing-I-can-do; it wasn't exactly comforting but the billionaire distantly supposed that it showed that the director actually gave a damn.

Or maybe it didn't. He wasn't really sure anymore, his thoughts refused to go in straight lines and he was struggling to hold onto the threads of reality that were slowly slipping away as he bled out. What a way to die.

'_Well, I always loved to be dramatic,' _he thought to himself, mentally smiling at the image. This was certainly one way of making sure his death was remembered – hell, people would write poems about his valiant bravery and his and Fury's epic goodbye.

"Tony."

He had to suppress a groan as the director's voice filtered through the haze that he was succumbing to; couldn't he just leave him alone? It took some doing to drag himself back towards the room he was imprisoned in but he persevered.

"Fuck off," he murmured but the words were so garbled he was surprised that Fury understood.

"Charming. Still with me then?" He groaned out loud this time. "The others are coming Tony. Just hang in there."

Fury kept talking after that, not really saying anything of import, just filling that detested room with noise in the hope that it would help the billionaire stay awake just long enough to be rescued. After a while, Tony stopped listening to the words and they faded into an incomprehensible blur of sound; he might never admit it – might not get the chance to, he thought sardonically – but it helped. It didn't do all that much to stave off the ever growing fatigue and weakness that engulfed him but it was comforting to know that he wasn't quite alone.

He felt the commotion at the door more than he heard it; thanks to the blood loss he hadn't been able to see properly for a while. Fury was talking again, louder and more determined this time but the words were still too disjointed for him to really make out. The hand that landed on his shoulder was enough grounding to pull him back into reality though and his whole body trembled as he twitched in an effort to get away.

"Tony! Christ, can you hear me? Wake up!" The voice was right beside him, close enough that he felt the ghost of breath next to his ear and the words were sharp and defined. A murmur made its way past his lips and he blinked, desperately trying to restore his vision to work out what the hell was going on. Everything was a blur and he was no longer sure what was happening. God, he was tired. Couldn't they just let him sleep?

He was just starting to fade again when the sound of a slap reached his ears and he felt his head snapping to the side; it took him a long moment to understand that someone had hit him. The thought helped to bring him around somewhat and he could vaguely make out the shape of someone crouched next to him. The blur was wrapping something around his injured leg and he had half a second to ponder that before the makeshift bandage was pulled tight and the agony raced through him like wildfire.

"Tony, stay with me ok? We're going to get you out of here, I promise." That voice sounded a lot like Clint, the billionaire observed silently – he didn't have the coherency at that moment to truly comprehend what that must mean.

There was movement around him, hands grasping him, pulling and tugging. Rather belatedly he realised that someone had freed his hands from their bindings and his arms hung loosely beside him, the ache of the broken bone lost amongst the various agonies his body had been subjected to.

With a sudden jolt that made his already muddled mind swim he found himself upright. The blur that looked like Clint and the mountain that could only be Thor were on either side of him and even Tony could tell that they were the only things keeping him upright. The thought didn't really process before he accidently leaned his weight on his injured leg.

The darkness claimed him before he felt the pain.

* * *

Clint would never forget the view that greeted him when he burst into the room where they were keeping Tony. With trained eyes he took in every little detail, seeing everything in a matter of seconds. A flickering image of Fury filled the small screen that was supported on a stand in front of the hunched figure bound to a chair in the centre of the small space. There was only one light bulb that did little to offset the shadows that shrouded the corners of the room. And Tony himself, looking like death.

His normally tan skin was grey and his breathing was heavily laboured. He was slumped awkwardly to the side which looked even more painful with the very obvious swelling of his forearm. Blood covered the floor below him and the archer could see the dark stain on his pants that couldn't mean anything good.

"Barton, Thor!" Fury was on his feet in a flash, his voice tight with worry. "He's been shot in the thigh. He's lost a lot of blood and for the past ten minutes he's been struggling to stay awake." As he spoke, Clint darted to his friend's side and Thor moved to untie his wrists.

"Tony! Christ, can you hear me? Wake up," the archer forced out even as his throat closed in horror. Without even thinking about what he was doing he grabbed the tail of Thor's cloak and ripped off a strip to start binding the billionaire's bleeding limb with; the demi-god made no move to stop him. Clothes could be replaced – humans? Less so.

"We have to get him out of here," Thor stated, his voice low and tight with barely suppressed rage. He started talking into his communicator quickly, telling the others of their situation while Clint struggled to ascertain Tony's condition.

The billionaire had stirred somewhat with their arrival but it was obvious that he was drifting again and the archer felt worry overcoming him once more.

"Agent Barton, you have to keep him awake!" Fury warned him sternly and Clint did the only thing he could think of: he slapped the billionaire across the face. He finished wrapping Tony's leg and pulled the cloth tight, wincing at the sound of pain that escaped the billionaire.

"Tony, stay with me ok? We're going to get you out of here, I promise," he comforted, though he was almost certain that his words were unheard. "Thor, help me. We have to get him back up to the surface. He _needs _medical attention." The demi-god rumbled his agreement and with a gentleness that didn't match his immense size he helped Clint – who had hefted the car battery over his shoulder, careful not to jostle the wires – lift the billionaire onto his feet, taking most of his weight. Within seconds Tony was unconscious.

Each step felt like a marathon to the archer; it was like he could feel the clock ticking away for his friend, who was currently balanced over Thor's shoulder. Lung damage be damned, they didn't have time to hobble out of those god forsaken tunnels.

It was only when they reached the ladder that they realised they had another problem but it evaporated almost instantly as Bruce's head appeared above them, looking pale and stressed but completely not green. He was forced out of the way by the medical team on the surface who wasted no time in lowering a stretcher down with cables for them to place Tony on before following themselves.

Steve and Natasha turned up a few minutes later saying that they had run into some heavies that had given them some trouble but they had dealt with them. Q was nowhere to be found.

The next hour was probably the most stressful situation the team had ever been in together, Loki Invasion included. They all piled into a quinjet to be whisked away to S.H.I.E.L.D while the medics took care of their team member, furiously working to keep him stable while shock and fatigue riddled holes in his health.

Upon reaching the helicarrier they came face to face with Fury who observed them gravely for a moment before telling them to go to the medical bay, since clearly they were uninterested in a debriefing right now. Q could be found and dealt with in due course; Tony was a priority right now.

For three hours they sat there in the chilly waiting room, downing endless cups of tasteless coffee, all the while blanketed in the silence of helplessness. Thor had folded himself into one of the plastic seats, switching Mjölnir from hand to hand restlessly, his eyes following Steve's pacing. Natasha was sat close to Clint's side, her arm brushing his as they silently supported each other with their presence alone. Bruce was the one that surprised the archer most. In similar situations to this the doctor had been forced to fight off the Hulk's attempts at going on a rampage whereas now, though he looked furious, it was obvious that Bruce was in total control. When asked he simply offered a grim smile and responded:

"I'm just as angry as he is. We've agreed that right now, I'll be of more help to Tony."

"You and the... other guy made a deal?" Clint frowned, trying to picture anyone making a pact with the green monster.

"Sort of. It's something we've been working on. Right now, I'm in control and as soon as we know that Tony is going to be alright, he's free to pound Quaru into the ground." The normally compassionate doctor's voice was hard and unforgiving and the archer would be lying if he said that it didn't make a shiver race down his spine. Bruce was damn scary when he wanted to be, with or without the Hulk.

Clint was just considering the thought idly – anything to stop the image of that hell hole of a prison from flashing before him – so when the doctor walked through the double doors he scrambled for half a second to focus. The man was middle aged and he had worked with the team before – he knew how to deal with them and they appreciated his professional manner. It might have helped that he had saved all their asses on at least one occasion.

"With anyone else, I would forbid visitors. However, I am under the impression that any attempt to stop you from going into Mr Stark's room will result in casualties among my staff. Therefore, I'm giving you five minutes." He raised his voice as everyone made to charge off in the direction of their team mate. "Hold on! You are not to touch any of the machines – I mean you Odinson – and make no attempts to wake him." They all nodded their agreement and Thor had the grace to look abashed. "Very well. Follow me."

* * *

_Well. That was an easy decision. Everyone – literally every single person that reviewed with a comment on it – said the same thing. So, longer fic it is. Still not entirely sure how I'm going to tie up all the loose ends up in a nice little bow but it's a start. Yay. Thanks for all the kind words. _

_It's not very long, I know but I desperately wanted to get this out. Most of the next chapter is written so it shouldn't take too long... This took forever! I'm so sorry. I turned 18 which was a little weird and terrifying so it put me off a bit and currently I'm stressing out because I get my A level results in less than a week and that pretty much dictates if I go to university or not and therefore the rest of my life. So, it's been an important few days. I'm rambling. I'll shut up. _


	6. Chapter 6

_I told you this chapter wouldn't take very long :D I'm actually proud of my update time for once._

* * *

Bruce might have made a deal with the other guy but he still had to take several deep breaths upon entering his friend's room. His hands shook for a moment as he struggled to rein in his fury at the sight of the billionaire, pale and bruised, looking so small amongst the machines assembled at his bedside. One of the monitors slowly beeped with proof of Tony's heart beat and the doctor forced himself to focus on that.

"You alright doc? Looking a little green there," Clint murmured quietly enough to avoid drawing the attention of the others.

"I'm alright," he said after a second. "But is he?" The question was directed at the medical doctor who hadn't yet left. The man sighed softly and rubbed his eyes; he looked as exhausted as they did.

"The most pressing concern we had for him was due to the blood loss. It caused his body to go into shock which impacted on the functions of many of his vital organs, specifically his kidneys. We've given him several transfusions and once we're sure he won't have an adverse reaction to the new cells he'll need a round of dialysis, just in case. The actual wound wasn't too complicated. The bullet avoided the artery and the bone; through and through. Minimum muscle damage. He'll be off his feet for a while but no permanent debilitation. Apart from his leg, a lot of the rest of his injuries are superficial. His ulna was cracked but not broken. There's not much we can do about the concussion – we can't wake him up so we're monitoring his brain activity just to be sure there are no complications but it's just erring on the side of caution. The burns on his chest from the wires-" he hesitated, looking mildly disgusted, "-were showing signs of infection but they've been cleaned and treated. The battery had been replaced with an arc reactor Fury supplied." Bruce frowned at that whilst Clint quietly explained to Thor what all of that meant.

"Does Tony know that S.H.I.E.L.D has some of his reactors?"

"He hacked our files," Natasha pointed out. "I find it hard to believe he was unaware." Well, that made a certain amount of sense.

"What's wrong with his lungs?" Bruce asked, gesturing to the oxygen mask on Tony's face.

"There was water in them that we have now been able to remove with minimum damage. However, the water wasn't clean and by the symptoms he's displaying it had been there for a long time. No lasting trauma but he does have a mild case of pneumonia. Nothing to worry about, with today's level of drug design, illnesses like that aren't as dangerous as they used to be. As long as he's in observation, he'll be fine."

"Thank you doctor," Steve told him sincerely. The doctor ducked his head in acknowledgement before leaving them in peace.

All of them fell into stunned silence, watching as their team member slowly breathed in and out, seemingly oblivious as to how close to death he had been. His pale face was splattered with deep bruises and the stitched cut above his eye stood out in an angry red line. The worst of the damage was hidden by the white sheet that had been pulled up over his chest but they could just make out the faint blue glow of the arc reactor shining through the fabric. There was a brace around his arm to stop him from aggravating the fracture. In all, he looked like he'd been through hell.

"We got him back," Tasha said eventually. "He'll be alright. That's what counts."

"He should never have been taken. I thought S.H.I.E.L.D kept tabs on us," Steve pointed out, looking for someone to blame.

"We do," came a voice from the doorway and everyone apart from the two agents turned to see Fury standing there, looking grim. "But we can only work so fast. Stark took off from the tower without warning. I've been in contact with Ms Potts and she told us that he had no plans to be anywhere but the tower that day. So where was he going?"

"I kicked him out of the lab. He hadn't eaten for a while and I was worried. He said that he was going to the kitchen and promised to be back within an hour. I wandered off to check in on the others for a bit and I didn't see him again," Bruce supplied, flexing his fingers to try and avoid them curling into fists. The other guy was getting restless. "Look, does this matter? You," he pointed at Fury, "either suck at your job or you have a serious security problem. You might want to look into it. But either way, we should be finding Q, shouldn't we? The longer we wait the more opportunity he has to cover his tracks." The director looked pissy for a few seconds before he just sighed.

"Thanks to the hard drive Agent Romanoff recovered, we have some data to work with. I have people working on breaking down the encryptions as we speak. As soon as we have a location, you'll know about it."

"Is Pepper coming back?" Clint asked after a short silence.

"She started making plans to as soon as she heard that Stark had been taken. She'll be here soon."

There wasn't much more to say beyond that. The doctor returned to shoo them out of the room, declaring that they had a very strange idea of what 'five minutes' meant. They left without complaint under the agreement that one of the team could stick around so that someone would be here when Tony woke up. Tasha offered to take first shift and the rest of the team dispersed, physically tired and emotionally drained.

Without offering any explanation, Bruce made his way to the newly reinstalled glass prison and locked himself in. If the Hulk's roars kept anyone awake that night, no one complained.

* * *

Tony had never liked waking up. It was one of the reasons he didn't like sleeping – why submit to dreams that could morph into nightmares at any minute only to have to go through the whole ordeal of returning to the waking world? Staying up was far more fun. But he was not, for all his technological genius, an actual machine. As such, every now and then he would be forced to pass out for a while and dread the moment that reality would return.

Despite all that though, this had to be the worst awakening _ever. _Everything ached with the stiffness that he knew from experience meant that he should be in pain but there were enough drugs in his system to stave off the agony. He could feel each beat of his heart pound through him like a drum until he feared his bones would shake apart under the force of it.

He tried to groan unhappily but his throat rasped and he stopped as it burned unpleasantly. There was a movement next to him, the sound of someone shifting their weight and the billionaire struggled to find the right controls to open his eyes. After a moment of scrambling he found the correct nerves and blinked against the bright light that assaulted his eyes. It took a while but eventually he was able to look around without his brain combusting.

"Friend Stark? You have awakened?" Tony's eyes roamed until they found his favourite demi-god sat beside him. His subconscious mind – that was working far faster than the part under his control – quickly supplied him with the knowledge that he was laying in a bed that wasn't his and the room he found himself in looked suspiciously like a hospital meaning that _no, _Thor hasn't broken into your bedroom to 'observe the sleeping patterns of humans.' Again.

"Thor?" He asked quietly, his voice sounding like he'd tried drinking sand but ended up swallowing glass. He coughed weakly, becoming aware of the mask over his nose and mouth. He wanted to remove it but currently his arms had decided that they didn't want to play ball and remained entirely motionless.

"Remain calm my friend. You are safe now." Well, of course he was. When had he not been – _Oh. _

'_I remember now.' _He winced internally as all of his memories came flooding back in an unceremonious jumble. Thor was watching him with concern, his eyes wide and innocent. Tony tried to smile in reassurance but the mask got in the way; it probably looked more like a grimace anyway.

"Are you in pain, Man of Iron? I shall fetch a healer!" The big blonde god had bounded off before Tony had the time to respond. Had his body been working in the way it should, he would have chuckled at his friend's buoyant nature – nothing, except mention of his little brother, could bring him down.

"Mr Stark, good to see you again," the doctor commented with a slight smile as he strode into the room. Tony knew the man, had dealt with him several times but he still couldn't recall the man's name. To save himself the pain of speaking he just nodded very slightly and blinked. "Ah, of course, you must be thirsty." With practiced ease he removed the oxygen mask and poured a few ice chips into Tony's mouth; he tried not to blush at the humiliation of his own weakness, suddenly aware that Thor hadn't returned, allowing the billionaire some privacy. He made a mental note to buy the man a kitten in thanks.

"Better?" The doctor asked, making a few notes on a chart. Tony nodded. "Now. You have a concussion so everything will be a little disorientating at first. Don't worry, it's completely normal and only temporary, I assure you. You also have several drugs in your system that may make you feel light headed or nauseous and you may feel uncoordinated. It will pass within a few hours." The doctor spoke calmly, his words to the point. Tony appreciated that; he had no time for doctors that danced around obvious truths.

"Thanks," he whispered, his throat a bit less painful after the ice.

"Not at all, Mr Stark. I suggest you get some more sleep, your body needs time to recover."

Even as he spoke, Tony felt his body shutting down again and he nodded as his eyes fluttered. Just before he went under again he was aware of Thor settling back down beside him and he drifted off with a smile.

* * *

Over the next few days tony would wake up frequently but only for a short amount of time. The doctors assured him that it was completely normal and to just let it happen.

Each time he woke up there would be a different face there to greet him, watching over him like his personal guardians – his favourite had been waking up to a stressed out Pepper Potts who had promptly burst into tears and drowned him in tender kisses while managing to avoid all the bruising (quite the feat he was told).

The worst visitor by far had been Steve; he had taken one look at the soldier and had felt like bursting into tears himself. In a rather desperate move to escape the situation he feigned drowsiness and pretended to doze off far sooner than he needed to. To his undying relief, he hadn't seen him again.

Tony just wanted this state of limbo to end – despite what the doctors kept saying about having patience. So when he woke up one day feeling far more rested than he previously had, he almost crowed in delight. Tasha, his current watchdog, eyed his grin with a careful balance between wariness and amusement.

"How do you feel?"

"Like I want to get out of this damned bed," he murmured back, surprised that she actually seemed to understand the slurred garble of words.

"I don't think you're quite there yet."

"When will I be?" He pouted, aware he sounded like a petulant child. She snickered.

"In due course. You should be loving this! It's practically a holiday."

"I don't know about you but my holidays involve far more Pepper and far fewer cases of oh-god-why-is-there-a-demi-god-watching-me-sleep?"

"I suppose you might have a point there," she smiled, looking more friendly than he had ever seen her. Was it friendship or pity, he wondered idly.

"What have I missed?" Something else suddenly occurred to him. "How long have I been out? What day is it?"

"We found you six days ago. It took a little over a day for you to wake up for the first time and you're been in and out since then. You were... taken nine days ago."

"I was with Q for three days?" He asked surprised, not allowing himself to remember any of what happened in that time. He couldn't face that trauma right now. Natasha nodded silently, watching him like a hawk watches its prey. "Damn. Anything happen in that time?"

"We have people working on data recovered from the facility you were in but everything is hidden behind state of the art firewalls. I think Fury was hoping that you could help us with it. Once you're feeling up to it of course." There was a long moment where Tony thought about what she had said and then read between the lines.

"Quaru got away, didn't he?" She nodded sadly. "Can you get me a computer? I want to look at those files."

"Tony, you're still not healed, you can't just-" He cut her off with a look.

"Tasha, please. I... I need to," he told her, not trying to hide the desperation that flashed onto his face. She looked at him steadily for a moment, reading the stress and the fear and the sheer determination and she realised that she had to concede.

"Alright. I'll find something. Give me a minute."

The billionaire would spend the next hour tapping away at a tablet that Natasha had brought him, casually hacking his way through S.H.I.E.L.D to gain access to the data they had recovered. One glance over the files told him that whoever Q was, he had better security than Fury did and that was saying something. He could almost be impressed.

The work kept his mind busy, of which he was thankful. He didn't want to have to think right now. Kidnapping aside, he still had to try and work out how he could ever look Steve in the eye again without wanting to a) stab him or b) run away and hide for a while. Running wasn't normally his style but the problem was every time Rogers looked at him with those big blue eyes filled with disappointment or frustration, Tony found himself staring at his father all over again. And here he'd thought Howard's death would mean that Tony could be free of his judgement.

* * *

It was inevitable really. Steve was the leader of the team and no matter what he personally thought of Tony, he couldn't just avoid the man when he was stuck in a hospital bed. Or so the billionaire theorised.

So when he next woke up and found the soldier sat there watching him he realised that he had been waiting for such a moment to occur.

"You don't normally sleep this much," Steve said after a moment of silence, his voice completely devoid of anything Tony had been expecting. Annoyance, disgust and yeah, sure, maybe he had been hoping for a little remorse. But there was none of that; he sounded just like he always did.

"Err, yeah. That tends to happen when psychopaths shoot me," he replied, trying to find his footing in this situation. Steve looked away immediately and started worrying his lip with his teeth. He looked so _innocent_ that Tony had the distinct urge to punch him.

"Are you alright?" Rogers asked eventually and the billionaire had to remind himself that it wasn't genuine concern in his voice, it was all an act. Maybe the soldier didn't know that Tony had finally worked him out, maybe he thought he could still pull this whole charade off. It was sickening.

"I'm fine," he snapped, irritated. "This isn't my first kidnapping Cap. Been there, done that." He immediately scolded himself; he didn't want to get into an argument right now, especially over this. He wanted to have the physical ability to run away when that conversation came around. Steve flinched visibly.

"I know. I just-"

"I told you, I'm fine. Let it go." He closed his eyes and took a deep calming breath. Rogers watched him carefully.

"Alright then."

"Thank you." For a while they just sat there in awkward silence – Tony kept his eyes closed in the hope that the Captain would just vanish while Steve waited for some sort of sign to tell him what to do. Eventually he sighed loudly and decided to broach a subject that had been bothering him.

"So, care to explain what drove you down to mingle with the 'common folk?' Unprotected no less." Tony's head snapped up to stare at him, face blank with surprise. Was he trying to rub it in? The billionaire had left the tower because Steve was a backstabbing bastard and there was no way the Captain didn't know that. Was there? Sudden doubt filled Tony's mind and he suddenly found himself studying the other man more closely.

Steve was looking at him in genuine curiosity, no trace of guilt or comprehension in his expression; he honestly didn't know. For a moment, Tony let that process, trying to work out what that meant and how he felt, besides the obvious anger and surprisingly strong sense of hurt. There were too many variables, he decided, too much he still didn't understand. So the billionaire did what he always did when he was faced with a question he didn't want to answer: he shrugged with a smile and started lying through his teeth.

"You know me, every now and then I need to boost my ego. I was kind of hoping if I went out in public alone I'd be more likely to find people willing to drown me in praise." Steve just stared at him incredulously, gaping like a fish. It took him a minute to morph his surprise – with a small hint of suspicion – into a coherent sentence.

"You almost got killed because you were feeling underappreciated? Only you Stark could be that foolish." Tony visibly bristled at the accusation but made sure to hide the flinch at the sting of the words.

"You make it sound as though I knew I would be kidnapped. I might be a genius but I haven't yet mastered the ability of foresight. And contrary to popular belief, I do have some common sense you know." Steve snorted in response and shook his head slowly.

"Sure you do. Look, I promised Clint that I'd spar with him, so I have to go. Want me to find someone else to come and talk to you?"

"Must you treat me like a complete invalid?"

"You are an invalid," Steve pointed out sagely, earning him a glare.

"I am perfectly capable on my own, thank you very much." Steve just smiled at him; a genuine, open smile that spoke of friendship and camaraderie and Tony felt his heart clenching when he saw it. No wonder the Cap had fooled him into thinking they were friends: the billionaire was having a hard time not believing it now, even after all he had heard. The false smile he gave in return fell from his face as soon as Steve was out of the door.

Tony sat there in silence for a long while, trying to force his emotions into some semblance of order but failing miserably.

'_Ok Tony,' _he told himself. _'Bit by bit.'_

He was angry, that much was easy. Furious, truth be told. How dare Steve say what he had? How dare he be the source of such doubt and distress? Tony didn't think all that much of himself but Steve had no right to think so little of him; he had proved himself time and time that he was willing to be the hero and yet Capsicle still thought he was an egotistical prick.

Beyond that however, he mostly just felt hurt. Betrayed. _Alone. _The latter was the hardest pill to swallow because he had always been alone, apart from Pepper, Rhodey and Happy (Jarvis too but he figured it didn't strictly count as company if you made it yourself) and it had never bothered him before. Then the Avengers happened and suddenly he had the capacity to feel lonely, just as they abandoned him again.

'_Not all of them,' _a voice in his mind whispered, showing him his own memories of jokes with Bruce and Clint, missions spent with Thor and Natasha. He might not be as close to the latter two but they were his friends none the less.

'_So what do I do now?' _Tony kneaded his forehead, trying to offset the migraine he could feel growing. He needed alcohol for this much personal reflection.

He could confront Steve. It would be just like him to go at a problem head on but in this situation there were just so many ways it could backfire – irreparably – that the risk wasn't worth the rewards.

He could go and talk to one of the others – Bruce, he decided instantly – but it would mean baring his heart to someone about a friend's betrayal; who was to say history wouldn't repeat itself and he'd walk away even more damaged?

He could stay silent, say nothing at all and pretend he was fine. In a team with two master spies, convincing them all of a lie would be difficult but they might just put it down to post-traumatic stress. The problem was if he did that, when would it end? He'd be miserable with no easy way out and the team would never be home again like it had been before. No, this wasn't something he could just ignore.

'_I wish I'd never heard them,' _he told himself, then frowned. Was that true? He would be happier living a lie than facing a brutal truth? _'Damn, what does that say about me? I have some serious psychological issues.' _He shook his head with a sardonic chuckle, his emotions snapping around wildly in his hysteria.

There was one other choice available, he realised after a moment. Wasn't it what had caused this whole disaster in the first place? He had wanted to get away: to _leave. _There was nothing keeping him here – long term at least, for now he was confined to his hospital bed and he still felt crappy enough to listen to what the doctors told him. He could just go, maybe not forever but for a long while, until he could sort out all his emotions. Over the last couple of weeks he had genuinely wanted to return to Malibu and he would never turn down the chance for a holiday with Pepper.

It was the perfect excuse: he could get away from Steve and his self-righteous backstabbing and it might actually help him with the whole holy-shit-I-just-got-abducted-and-tortured thing. Of course, it would take some doing to convince the team to let him out of their sights quite so soon after this whole fiasco, especially when he couldn't tell them the truth but that didn't matter. He had a plan.

Allowing himself to smile, he idled his time away as he planned what he would say to the team. He was still grinning when Bruce walked in ten minutes later.

"What's got you looking so happy? If you're planning on escaping the medical bay like you did last time, so help me Tony, I will break your legs." The billionaire just blinked at him for a second as everything clicked together in his mind before he scrambled to create a mask of innocence.

"Well, that's a little overzealous. I might just have been happy to see you."

"I somehow doubt it," Bruce muttered, shaking his head fondly. Tony forced his face into a grin and winked even while he felt his world crumbling down around him. Because he had only just placed the voice of the man Steve had been talking to, all that time ago at the tower. _Bruce_.

* * *

_This was originally longer, but I split it down into two chapters because I thought 6000 words in one chapter was pushing it a bit. Ah well, it means that the next chapter won't take as long :)_

_Not much action, I know. But this bit was important for the progression of the plot. Promise. Although, I should say that even though I have a rough idea of how this is going to go, the details are all over the place so... yeah. Anyways, reviews are always appreciated.  
_

_I'm not a medical doctor, I just made up all the stuff the doctor said. I haven't the faintest idea how accurate any of it is, I apologise for any mistakes._

_And THANK YOU for all your 'good lucks' for results. It made me happy :D  
_


	7. Chapter 7

_So this took a while. So sorry. On the upside, I get to go to university :D That does mean that updates are going to be sparse for a while whilst I teach myself how to survive :)_

* * *

When you were stuck in a hospital bed, there isn't all that much to entertain you. Tony had spent a lot of the endless free time poking at the tablet he had been given, trying to get anything from the files the team recovered that he could. There was more to it than simply wanting to get the man who put him here: he _needed _to be distracted.

One thing he hated about hospitals – medical bays, whatever – was that you weren't allowed alcohol. Tony wasn't a drunkard by any stretch but he knew from experience that if he didn't take the edge of with a glass of scotch now and again his mind was prone to burn itself out and run him into the ground. He was a genius and that came with its own set of faults: his brain was always working. Like a machine racing out of control he would overheat and just collapse. Pepper had found him once after he'd been through such a scenario and the outcome had not been pretty. She'd been furious at him for weeks.

To make matters even worse, he had to deal with seeing Bruce and Steve all the time. Banner was something of a given – to the outside world they were still sciencebros, they were meant to be best friends so it only made sense that he would visit all the time. If the doctor knew that Tony had worked him out, he didn't let on. Steve was more of a mystery. Stark would have expected him to keep well away and yet he had suddenly morphed into the billionaire's shadow. It was understandably irritating.

Pepper was a light in all the darkness. She was glued to his side most of the time except for when Tony demanded that she go and sleep in a proper bed, detesting the thought of her spending the night in the hospital chairs that frankly should be in Fury's torture chambers.

Natasha and Clint were at least able to lighten the mood when the swung by, bringing jokes and smiles and tales of Thor and his arguments with a toaster of all things, but Fury was keeping them pretty busy at the moment while they ferreted for any information they could about Q. Tony wanted more than anything to find him but at the same time he wished he could spend more time with the assassins (that was something he'd never thought he'd say).

The demi god himself had spent little time with Tony, popping in now and again until he went down to New Mexico to see Jane. The billionaire found that he missed Thor's camaraderie in a way he wouldn't have expected, but he couldn't fault him for wanting to be with the woman he loved.

Even with the almost constant visits from his friends, he was almost unbearably lonely. He told himself he was just being paranoid but he was now finding himself seeing enemies at every turn – a glance shared between Nat and Clint would suddenly become a silent conversation about him, if Bruce looked thoughtful it was probably because he was pondering the faults of the billionaire. It was maddening.

He knew that he had to get out of here, as soon as he was physically able to stand – if he didn't he would actually go insane. Tony didn't like thinking himself a coward but that must be what he was – he was running away, wasn't he? Or maybe it was simply a retreat. He would have to be coming back eventually, he wouldn't be gone forever, no matter how much he wished that was the case. At least, that was the plan.

Who said Ironman had to stay? He was free to do as he pleased for the most part, what was it that was keeping him in the team? He worked better solo anyway.

He would spend hours like this, talking himself in circles in the small hours of the night when everyone had left him in the mocking shadow of peace. He wasn't sleeping – couldn't – but no one apart from Pepper seemed to even notice the bags under his eyes.

'_How can you just not care?' _He thought to himself one day when Bruce settled himself down next to him, idly informing Tony on the goings on of the helicarrier that he had missed. _'We were friends, weren't we? Or was that all a lie? Is it hatred? Do you hate me? Whatever I did to you, I'm sorry. I wish I knew what it was so I could fix it. Or maybe you just hate me because of me. Is that it? Is there something wrong with me?' _

It wasn't until Banner called his name and shook one of his shoulders – gently – that Tony realised he had completely zoned out. Without thinking it through he jerked out from under the doctor's hand before gasping in pain, eyes slamming shut as his body punished him for his actions. So caught up in the pain he didn't see the deep hurt flash across Bruce's face.

"Tony, are you ok? I'm sorry, I didn't-" the doctor started but Tony cut him off.

"It's ok. I'm ok," he mumbled, his breathing still erratic. Banner was watching him closely, his hands hovering but not touching him, clearly unsure of what to do. "Really, I'm fine. Just... tired."

"Maybe I should let you get some rest," Bruce said softly, clearly not believing Tony for a second. He stood up somewhat abruptly and even though looking at him was physically painful, the billionaire grabbed his arm before he could leave.

"I'm sorry. It's fine, really." The doctor hesitated for a long moment and then sunk slowly back into his seat.

They stayed like that for a while, forcing awkward conversation and ignoring the giant elephant doing cartwheels around the room. Stark just felt his conviction growing, strengthening into an actual plan.

'_You have to get out of here Tony. You're going to fall apart if you don't.'_

* * *

"Director! Can I talk to you for a moment?" Fury sighed softly to himself; the only time Stark _ever _called him 'director' was when he needed a favour and that rarely ended well for the master spy. Still, he looked over his shoulder at the slowly approaching billionaire who looked entirely uncoordinated with his crutches, biting his lip in concentration. For a man who could fly so brilliantly, he sucked at walking.

"Shouldn't you be in bed Stark?" He sounded put upon and frustrated but he slowed his walk down so that Tony could catch him up.

"I got bored," was the only response to that and despite himself Fury chuckled. "Besides, I needed to ask you something."

"Why do I get the feeling that I'm not going to like this?"

"You have so little faith in me, it's almost offensive," Stark shot back with a mild glare before almost stumbling and focussing on his feet for a moment. Fury grabbed his arm as he listed alarmingly to the side but he was shrugged off with an almost inaudible sigh of frustration.

"You were saying?" Tony looked murderous for a moment before he forced the emotions off his face.

"Anyway, I've been thinking. I haven't been down to Malibu in a while and now that Pepper's back... I was thinking of heading down there." Fury watched him out of the corner of his eye, taking in the way he was staring straight ahead, the way he avoided offering any further explanation.

"Alright... I fail to see the question in there. You can't possibly be coming to me to ask permission to leave, can you?" Stark didn't respond. "You're a civilian Stark, if you want to go there is nothing I can do to stop you, short of placing you under guard."

"What if I asked you to make sure none of the team followed me?" Again, the billionaire didn't explain that statement at all and refused to look at the director. Fury stopped their slow walk and put a hand on Tony's arm to bring him to a halt too while the master spy just watched him, trying to read the answers in his face.

Stark was tense with stress, muscles knotted and bunched and he held himself stiffly upright – though that could be due to the many injuries he had sustained. In the entire conversation he hadn't made eye contact and right now it appeared he was searching for the meaning of life in his shoes. It was completely unlike Stark and despite himself, Fury was worried. He'd ordered one of S.H.I.E.L.D psychiatrists to analyse the billionaire and the poor man had returned to him, visibly shaking, informing him that he could see any overly worrying signs of PTSD but that Stark should have started going to counselling years ago and 'oh god, please do not assign me as his shrink.' The director had actually felt a little bad.

But right now? Fury hadn't the faintest idea what was going on in that genius mind of his. He was intrigued by the enigma that was Tony Stark but that was probably a matter for another time – he was still waiting for an answer.

"I'll see it done. Or at least, I'll try. If Banner threatens to hulk out on the helicarrier I'll personally pay for his plane ticket over there."

"Noted." Stark made to hobble away again but Fury snagged his arm, careful not to unbalance him.

"Are you going to explain your request?"

"I wasn't planning on it." He tried to pull away again and this time the director let him go, watching as he slowly made his way back down the corridor to the infirmary. It wasn't until he was out of sight that Fury sighed and continued towards the command centre.

* * *

"Where the _hell_ have you been?" Pepper demanded as soon as Tony reappeared in the doorway of his room. He hadn't actually been given permission to leave the medical bay but he had really wanted to talk to Fury; it wasn't like he'd done any harm. The look on his girlfriend's face told him otherwise.

"I just had something I needed to do. I'm back now," he told her, hobbling to his bed and very gently lowering himself onto the soft surface. The red head looked like she wanted to slap him – probably would have done if it wasn't for the bruises littering her boyfriend.

"You can't just take off like that!" For a long moment she just glared at him angrily while he did his best not to wince in the face of her ire before all the tension bled out of her with a sigh and her face softened into a reproachful smile. "I was worried about you."

"I know Pep," he said, grabbing her hand and squeezing her fingers. If there was one thing he desperately hated himself for, it was his propensity to hurt Pepper at every turn. No matter what he did, until Iron Man was behind him, she would end up hurting and it killed him. She was far too pure to be sullied by his own selfishness but the problem was he couldn't let her go. "I'm sorry," he murmured softly and meant it.

She leant towards him, pressing her forehead against his and closing her eyes.

"I know. Care to tell me what was so important you felt the need to sneak out?" He sighed softly, feeling his muscles relax.

"I was planning a holiday, if you must know." Pepper's eyes flew open in surprise and she blinked at him, confused.

"A holiday?"

"Yep. We're going to Malibu." She took a minute to think that through and then frowned.

"Tony, I have to work. You know I have to work. We can't all abandon the company to flounder." Even though Tony had seen this coming, he still felt put out. He pouted a little, then softened his face and smiled.

"No you don't." He held up a hand to stall the inevitable protest. "I've cleared things with Fury, so S.H.I.E.L.D won't be needing your help. I'm going to ring the board of directors in the morning and tell them that you're taking the vacation time that you've been accumulating for the last decade. Seriously, have you _ever _taken a paid holiday?" She didn't reply, just wordlessly glared at him. "The company's been doing well, I'm sure they can cope without you for at least a little while."

For a long while, Pepper just looked at him, reading everything she could in the hunch of his shoulders, the tightness around his eyes. She could see the pain and how desperately he was trying to hide it as well as the hurt that lingered in his eyes and the curve of his mouth – she didn't understand it but her heart bled for him all the same. He needed her right now.

"Ok," she breathed softly, squeezing his hand in comfort. "Ok Tony, I'll come with you." The way his face burst into a smile was worth whatever trouble such a situation might cause. But even then when he was practically glowing with happiness, there was still something lingering behind the face, something Pepper couldn't quite grasp so she just smiled at him and hugged him and vowed to herself that she would get to the bottom of whatever it was that was causing such pain to the man she loved.

* * *

As Tony had predicted the board offered very little resistance when he said that Pepper would be gone for a little while. Initially they were royally pissed, getting so irate with him that he was forced to remind them that as the owner of the company he had power over their continued involvement with Stark Industries. But eventually, once he pointed out that Pepper was entitled to holiday time and _'she's your CEO, I'd keep her happy if I were you,' _they caved without further complaint.

The rest of the team seemed unaware of his imminent departure, for which he was grateful. He had specifically told Pepper not to tell the others and it seemed clear that Fury had more sense.

The main problem had been convincing the doctors in the medical bay to release him despite the fact that anyone could tell he was nowhere near recovered; it had taken Fury and the condition he stayed at home and rested to eventually sway them.

But now everything was ready and Tony couldn't wait. A quinjet was giving him and Pepper a lift to the airport, from which Tony's private jet would take them to Malibu; no mess, no fuss and most importantly no interfering team mates.

* * *

When Bruce walked into the room Tony had been staying in he was so tired that he spent a full minute talking to thin air before he realised that the billionaire wasn't even there. As soon as that clicked he had to fight back the other guy in a surge of panic.

'_Calm down Banner,' _he told himself sternly. _'There's a reasonable explanation here somewhere. There's no way someone could get to him on the helicarrier.' _

The reminder of where he was helped a lot, partly due to the fact that he remembered there was nowhere (with the exception of Stark Tower) that had better surveillance than here. If Tony was still on board then the ship's systems could tell him.

With that in mind he strode out of the empty room back down to his lab and immediately started tapping away at the keys. He wasn't a patch on Tony when it came to electronics but he was a genius and picked things up quickly; getting into S.H.I.E.L.D's camera feeds wasn't a problem thanks to the billionaire's help.

It took the doctor all of three minutes to ascertain that Tony wasn't showing up on the cameras – which in itself set off alarm bells – and that Fury was marching towards his lab with a determined stride. When the director marched into the room he took a long look around, nodded to himself and then turned his attentions on the doctor.

"Is there a reason you're looking at classified video feeds?"

"Where the hell is Tony?" Bruce shot back, effectively answering the question, though from the look on Fury's face he had already known exactly what he'd been up to.

"Mr Stark is not currently onboard the helicarrier."

"I'd noticed," he hissed back, glaring venomously at the director. Something was obviously going on and Fury was clearly pulling the strings here; the other guy stirred in irritation at the idea of a human having power over him. "Where the hell is he?"

"I'm not currently tracking his whereabouts, though I can tell you he expressed a desire for a holiday."

"A holiday to where?"

"I didn't ask." Now that was an outright lie and Bruce knew it. Fury _always _asked. And if he hadn't then it would mean he already knew the answer.

"What are you trying to hide Director?" Fury actually chuckled – it was freaky.

"To quote Tony Stark: 'my secrets have secrets.'" Bruce growled wordlessly at him, tapping some commands into his keyboard quickly. The computer loaded for a moment and then beeped as his attempt at tracing Tony's phone hit a firewall and was shot down; Stark was too damn paranoid for his own good.

Banner sighed softly, massaging his temples with his fingertips softly, mentally warning the other guy to back down while at the same time resisting the urge to punch Fury himself.

"Fine. Just... tell me if he's alright." The director examined him for a long moment, watching the flicker of green in his eyes fade back and the tense line of his shoulders soften slightly before he nodded slowly.

"He needs some time Doctor Banner, it's why I let him go. But knowing him? He's going to be fine."

* * *

_Thanks to __**Nighthawk678 **__for reminding me how long it had been since I updated and therefore encouraging me to produce this. I hope it met expectations :) I'm not too sure about the Bruce bit at the end, but I felt that I had to post something :/  
_

_Updates for my other stories are coming, I swear! Greatest apologies to everyone waiting. Tumblr distracted me._

_Still can't get over how amazing the response to this story has been; I love you all. You seriously rock and you're what makes me keep writing. Thank you to every single one of you :)_


	8. Chapter 8

Pepper was watching him closely. He could feel her gaze on his shoulders from across the room but he resolutely refused to turn around and make the eye contact she so desperately wanted. Tony knew that he owed her an explanation, knew that she was waiting for one but he just couldn't do it. How did he explain it? How could he tell the only woman who had ever meant that he couldn't understand it anymore?

Tony Stark was a man with a lot to hide. He was rich and famous which meant that every move he made in the public eye would be dissected and observed and twisted in the worst ways by the ever present journalists and camera crews and as such he had learned long ago that to retain any form of sanity, Tony Stark the business man and Tony the human being had to be different people. That was fine by him, he'd been doing it all his life. One of the few things that Afghanistan hadn't changed was that; it only made it all the more important that his secrets remained safe.

And then there had been the Avengers and Fury and S.H.I.E.L.D and _Coulson, _and all of a sudden his secrets weren't so secret any more but that was _okay _and he didn't care. They were safe. They were family.

Ever since leaving the helicarrier Tony had been hearing Steve's voice in his head:

_"Big man in a suit of armour. Take that away and what are you?" _At the time he had snapped something back with enough wit to cover the sting but it hadn't _hurt. _Captain America might have been his idol when he was younger but he had no grand illusions that Steve would give a damn about him - they hadn't known each other. It made sense for the military man to doubt his loyalties, it was in the job description.

But now? Now he wasn't so sure.

_'The suit and I are one.' _That was what he had told Fury, and he had meant it but at the same time he hadn't. Only he could use it that was true (he'd written Rhodey into the system during the whole Palladium fiasco but he'd been safely removed from all the remaining suits) but the coding could be changed - the suit was just a suit. It had no loyalty to him.

It wasn't until now, when he'd let down his shields that he realised the suit was just one of a thousand self defence mechanisms, so distorted that he couldn't tell friend from foe.

_'Genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist.' _Was that just armour too? But of course he knew that answer to it now, had had it thrust in his face by people who were meant to be his friends, and just maybe he'd always known, just like he had known that the press would always hound him for information he was unwilling to give.

_'Take away the suit, Steve? You can't. That's _all _there is. I have nothing else. I deserve nothing else.'_

Pepper's hands rubbing soothing circles on his back dragged him back to Malibu with a jolt and he flinched a little, disorientated; he hadn't heard her approach. He could hear her soft sigh and felt her weight settle beside him on the couch, her warmth curling into his side comfortingly and he leaned into her embrace, desperate for the touch of someone he could trust. She knew him, even before the suit and she was still here.

"Tony, you need to tell me what's wrong. I want to help you," the thickness in her voice sounded a lot like tears and the genius instantly berated himself for causing her this much pain. Something else to add to his list of failures.

"I don't know what to do Pep." His own eyes swam in a rare moment of intense emotion - he hadn't been sleeping, it was going to backfire on him at some stage.

"What do you mean?" She looked up at him, ... eyes wide and honest.

"I can't-" he paused, chocking on his own confession. "I don't know who I am anymore Pep. I can't see what I'm meant to be." The words were soft and they burned his throat as they poured out of him, the truth among the lies that had haunted him for so long and the fact he had been afraid of facing his whole life. Pepper didn't move, didn't react, just looked at him steadily.

"You're you," she told him calmly, her arms soft around him. "You already are exactly who you're meant to be. Whatever anyone says or thinks, it doesn't change anything. You're the man who would give his life for the right cause and who gave everything he had to defend innocent people."

"What if that wasn't enough?" He sounded pathetic to his own ears but the red head just held him more tightly, emotions flickering in her eyes too fast for him to catch and too deep to understand.

"You had nothing else to give." Her voice was twisted in shared grief but her face was still lined with confusion and her words echoed with questions she wouldn't ask. He couldn't answer that - didn't want to face the reality that everything he had wasn't enough - and so he just pulled her close and buried his face in her hair. She let him without comment, wrapped around him solidly like the pillar she needed to be.

* * *

When Tony pulled himself out of the well of despair he had fallen into, he found himself flat out on the sofa with Pepper nowhere in sight. A blanket had been draped carefully over him and the lights had been dimmed to a dull glow - cosy and warm. It made sense - complete lack of sleep combined with the fact that his body was still desperately trying to heal itself and it was hardly a surprise that he had just passed out like that. Still.

Rubbing at his arms idly, he sat up slowly, wincing when his injuries reasserted themselves in the forefront of his mind in a cacophony of pain.

"Urghhh..." He groaned unintelligibly. "J what time is it?" Somewhere above him the speakers helpfully supplied him with the date, time and weather reports. "You're far too cheery for four in the morning you know." He informed the AI as he tried to muster the courage to get to his feet.

"I am as you programmed me, Sir," the voice informed him cheerfully. Tony just groaned again, too distracted by his aches and pains to engage in the friendly banter normally shared between him and his creation. "Should I tell Miss Potts that you are awake Sir?"

"No!" He ordered a little hastily. "Let her sleep. She doesn't need to be my shadow."

"Of course not Sir."

"Don't get smart with me."

"Artwork is but a reflection of its creator." The billionaire huffed, a little mollified by the praise, even if it was only from a machine of his design. Very slowly he dragged his protesting body to the kitchen and gratefully accepted the fresh coffee from the machine, gulping down the liquid regardless of the way it burned his throat; the pain from that could get in line. He had enough else to focus on.

For a little while he just sat there, recovering from the exertion of getting there - he was far from healthy.

The problem that he was facing right now was what to do next. Getting away from the team and coming to Malibu had been a great idea in theory but the fact remained that - whether they wanted him to or not - they were expecting him to return to S.H.I.E.L.D at some stage. And he couldn't just treat New York as a no-go zone because he still had some level of responsibility to Stark Industries. No matter what happened, he couldn't just avoid the Avengers.

He could quit, he supposed. But that would be sure to raise some questions that he wasn't sure he wanted to answer and if he did then he would have to explain everything to Pepper. She had enough to deal with without having to carry his emotional baggage around with her - he had to find some way of solving this that would hurt her the least.

There were moments when he wondered if he hated them. Those strangers with familiar faces that lied with smiles and who had taken it upon themselves to tear down all his walls and set fire to anything that was left, just for the pleasure of watching it burn. He supposed it would be fair if he did. But he just... couldn't.

Apart from Pepper, Rhodey and Happy, they had been his first real friends, as sad as that sounded, even to his own ears. And there was a part of him that just couldn't let that go. No matter how much he might want to.

There were moments when he wondered if he hated them. And there were moments when he wished he could.

* * *

Bruce was good at being patient - it was sort of a requirement for someone with his... condition. But this whole scenario was pushing all of his buttons the wrong way.

Tony was just gone. Pepper had vanished along with him but that wasn't entirely unexpected - after something this traumatic she would be nowhere but at his side. Fury wasn't saying a word about the whole thing. He had a way of diverting the conversation whenever it strayed too close to the billionaire and no matter what Bruce said, none of his words seemed to be heard.

The rest of the team? Thor was concerned but not overly so. He had told Bruce about friends of his back in Asgard that had spent time alone after difficult battles or painful losses - he said something to do with the calm of isolation helping to soothe the draining horror of battle. It made the doctor wonder just how many battles Thor had fought and won and lost and just _what _exactly he had lost in all his many years of life. Clint and Natasha had calmly told him that they would look into it but that he shouldn't be worried - neither had seemed phased at all by the sudden disappearance. Steve was a little bit more agitated by the whole thing. Even he had to admit that it was unlike Tony to take off with no word at all and then avoid his phone like the plague. It was even more uncommon for Pepper to do the same.

"We have to do something," Bruce told the soldier one day as he was sat in front of a lunch he wouldn't eat. "Something has to be wrong."

"What exactly do you want us to do?" He replied, his voice heavy with resignation. "Fury tells me that Tony is safe and recovering and as much as I don't trust the man, I don't think he was lying. Not about that." The doctor was about to snap something back until he realised that the mug his fist was curled around was starting to crack under the force. "Bruce, trust me, I want to help him. But what he went through... if he needs time to cope with that then he can have all the time in the world."

"You think I don't know that? I know that he went through hell, I _watched it happen. _But this? This is so many levels of 'not right.'"

"What exactly do you want me to say?"

"Nothing! I want you to realise something isn't right here!" Bruce was forcing himself to take deep breaths. Normally he had far more control than this but he was tired and stressed and worried and he just wanted a straight answer for once.

"I do! But I don't see that there's anything we can do! Tony won't answer his phone and neither will Pepper and Fury isn't going to say a word. We don't even know where they are."

"I will bet you everything I own that he's in Malibu."

"Bit obvious, don't you think? If he didn't want to be found, why would he go there?"

"I don't know that he would. I just know that if anything like that happened to me, I'd want to go _home._"

"I thought New York was his home." There was a long pause when Bruce looked down at the plate of untouched food, feeling a thousand years old.

"So did I."

* * *

It took Bruce less than ten minutes to pack up his equipment from the helicarrier. He was determined to find Tony and even if that plan failed, he wouldn't be coming back here. It wasn't home without being shaken awake in the small hours of the morning to be asked pointless questions or spending every day on edge, just waiting for Tony to set off an explosion. The doctor hadn't realised how much he had come to depend on his new 'family.'

There was a quinjet waiting for him in the bay, along with a subdued super soldier who just nodded in greeting and boarded the craft. For a second Bruce just looked at the door he had walked through in surprise and then smiled to himself. Maybe he wouldn't be flying out to California on his own after all.

Once the jet had taken off and was safely gliding through the air, Bruce turned to his companion.

"Are you going to tell me what changed your mind?"

"My mind didn't need changing, remember? I agree with you: something isn't right here. I just thought we should maybe give Tony some time but if you're going to charge off no matter what I say then I'm going with you. We're a team. All of us. We look out for each other."

"I honestly don't know what we're going to find in Malibu."

"It doesn't matter. With luck we find Tony. If we don't, then we try something else." His voice was calm and sure and some of the surety of his tone helped to soothe Bruce's nerves.

"Thank you." Steve didn't respond to that, just nodded and smiled softly.

The doctor spent the rest of the flight trying to work out what he was going to say to Tony when he saw him. It varied wildly between trying to comfort and support him through whatever he was going through and just punching him square in the jaw for making him worry.

Either way, he was finding Tony. And he was going to fix this. Somehow.

* * *

_Ok, I think I've learned how to survive pretty successfully, though I'm still ironing out the kinks. So, sorry this took so long. I'm all moved out and in the big city and honestly? It's terrifying. Like, it's the most amazing thing ever and I love it but I still can't wrap my head around the idea that I'm doing a DEGREE. It's really scary._

_There was so little storyline in this. Like, none at all. It was more introspective than the other chapters. Meh. I had to update and this spewed forth. It's very late here, don't judge me._

_So, anyway. Hope you liked it :) _


	9. Chapter 9

"Tony, I'm not a fool. There's more to this than what happened with Q, I know." The billionaire's eyes flashed to his girlfriend and then away again. "I'm not asking you to tell me what - not if you don't want to - but please, for my sake if not your own, don't do this to yourself!"

"Do what?" For a long moment he was genuinely confused while Pepper just looked at him as though she was seeing him for the first time. His heart broke a little more.

"When was the last time you ate?" Her words were slow and spoken with forced calm, her lip trembling slightly as she fought back tears. Tony thought for a moment but came up empty - he hadn't even thought about food for at least five days, that was almost certain and before that it was a little hazy. By the frown on Pepper's face, she already knew the answer.

"I'm sorry Pep, I didn't realise."

"I know that! That's the problem!" Her calm had evaporated somewhat and she struggled wildly to pull it back before she broke down. "You aren't taking care of yourself by default and that means there's something big enough in your head to block out the human part of you." The words were far colder than she intended - she'd been getting no more sleep than Tony had - and with horror she watched as the genius flinched violently at the hidden meaning there.

"I _am _human Pepper," he told her, his voice harder than steel and older than the sea. "If nothing else, I have that."

"I didn't mean that. You know I didn't mean that."

"Maybe you should get some rest Pep. I thought you would be heading back any day now?" It was a last ditch effort to change the course of the conversation and the red head knew it. The words stung more than she thought they should.

_'Don't push me away too Tony. Please don't shut me out.' _She knew that if she told him that, it would be exactly what he would do so she ignored it.

"I'm not leaving you alone like this."

"I'm not a child. I don't need someone to watch over me."

"No, you don't. But soon enough you're going to need someone to talk to. And I'm here Tony. I'm _right here._ I'm not going to leave you, you know." Her hand reached out to his, covered in grime and oil from his lab, and squeezed it tightly, a small smile gracing her features. He returned the gesture and then sighed.

"I guess I should go and eat something."

"You should," she agreed and watched as he stumbled over to the doors and up the stairs, settling herself down in a chair and pulling a tablet towards her. Tony needed space and she had work to do.

* * *

Tony reached the kitchen before he realised he had no idea if there was even any food in here to eat. Knowing Pepper the kitchen would be stocked with every ingredient you could ever need but the problem was Tony Stark did _not_ cook. At least, not well.

For a solid moment he stood in the centre of the spotless room, staring at the numerous counters and cupboards, feeling like more of a stranger than ever before.

_'Get it together Stark. You need to stop falling apart like this.' _With that mantra in mind he headed for the fridge and poked around inside. As he suspected it was full of ingredients and completely devoid of meals with the exception of a single slice of vegetarian pizza - no thanks.

Grabbing a random assortment of foods that he could put in a sandwich he returned to one of the counters and set about making his lunch. Or dinner. Or breakfast, potentially - he really hadn't a clue what time of day it was. Once the sandwich was assembled in front of him he just stared at it for a while, trying to muster up the courage to eat it. It looked perfectly safe and quite tasty but he simply wasn't hungry.

It was something he hadn't mentioned to Pepper for fear of hurting her further but recently food had just lost all appeal, whether he needed it or not. Everything tasted like ash either way.

"Are you going to eat that?" The unexpected voice had him whirling around, his hand automatically grasping the knife he had used to cut the bread and bringing it up as a weapon. The sight that greeted him didn't make him want to lower the blade.

Steve and Bruce were hovering in the doorway, watching him with carefully blank expressions that gave nothing away, though Tony saw Steve's eyes flicker to the knife briefly and his eyes tighten very slightly. Tighten in anger? He hadn't the faintest idea.

"It's just us Tony," Bruce pointed out. "You can put the knife down now."

"We knocked but no one came to the door," Steve added, his brow furrowing in confusion for a moment before it fell away behind his mask. "We let ourselves in."

"Um," was Tony's articulate response. Kicking his brain into gear he took a second to process all of that along with _'oh my god why are they here?' _before forcing a smile and dropping the blade back onto the counter. "By all means, make yourselves at home."

"Tony, are you alright? You don't look so good," Bruce told him, taking a few steps forwards and pretending not to notice when the billionaire pushed himself back into the counter to get away.

An undecipherable look passed between the doctor and the captain and Tony felt his heart clench in the realisation that they were still talking behind his back - passing words and thoughts where he couldn't hear them. Had it always been like this? He didn't know how he'd never noticed.

"Maybe we should sit down?" Steve suggested gently, sounding like one of those patronising doctors that everyone knew wasn't really suggesting but ordering. The billionaire nodded mutely, his throat snapping closed at the thought of the conversation looming over them.

_'I can't do this. Not now. I need more time.' _Despite the fact that sheer blind panic that filled the forefront of his mind, behind that lay a deep pool of anger that had once been hurt. In his self imposed exile he had realised many things about himself - good and bad - and he might need more time to accept them but it had taken no time at all to understand who he was. He _cared._

There were so many people that would swear the only thing Tony Stark gave a damn about was himself but they were so wrong; there was nothing he cared about less. What mattered to him were the people that couldn't defend themselves, the ones who suffered without cause and he would do anything he could to spare them torment simply because he had the power to do so. Steve had been so far off the mark when he'd accused him of being selfish all that time ago on the helicarrier: Tony _was _the kind of person to lie down on the wire due to the honest truth that he didn't expect to deserve anything else.

The problem wasn't that Tony didn't care. It was that he cared _too much. _He would throw himself into suicidal situations without a moment's thought because he was expendable and ok, maybe that made him a poor team player but honestly? If it kept others alive he would choose to die every single time.

"Are you still with us Tony?" Bruce was shaking his shoulder gently and he started as he realised he'd completely zoned out there. Somehow the others had steered him onto a sofa and settled him there, sitting opposite him and watching with concern.

"What are you guys doing here? How did you even find me?" For now, the anger could wait. He wanted details.

"As for finding you, it was a hunch. Why we're here? You just took off Tony, without telling us! You can't do that and not expect us to freak out a little."

"I figured you would understand that I need space right now," the billionaire shot back, eyes flashing and fists clenching in his lap. He looked like a cornered animal, savage and afraid. Bruce flinched a little.

"We were worried about you Tony," Steve told him and damn if the genius didn't want to just believe that but he couldn't. Not anymore.

"You could have called."

"You didn't pick up."

"Then maybe you should have taken the hint," Tony snapped before he could stop himself. He really didn't have the energy for this confrontation right now but if Steve was going to pick a fight then he would power through with everything he had. No one could twist words better than a Stark.

"What's really going on here Tony?" Bruce asked eventually, uneasy with the stifling silence that had engulfed them. "This isn't just Q, that much is obvious. But we can't help you if we don't know what's wrong." That had the billionaire throwing himself to his feet and pacing backwards and forwards, unable to stay still.

"You have no idea how much like Pepper you sound right now. Did it never occur to you that maybe I don't _want _help? I can look after myself without your interference. I was doing better on my own." He'd worded that just so, looking for a response from Steve, something that would encourage him to break away from the team for good; hadn't that been what he'd wanted all along? But the Captain just looked very lost and a little heartbroken.

"That's what this is about? The team?"

"No!" Tony snapped and, as suddenly as he'd stood up, he dropped back into his seat. "This is about me and thinking that maybe if I don't want to go insane I should start learning from my mistakes."

That was why this burned so much, he supposed. Tony had trusted people before and he'd been betrayed, over and over and he still hadn't learned his lesson? Maybe he wasn't such a genius after all.

"Please Tony, help us understand," Bruce pleaded, looking a little desperate. "What mistakes?"

"Obadiah." There was a moment of stillness where the Captain and the doctor just looked at each other with complete lack of comprehension and then Tony was ranting, the rage and desperation and hurt taking the form of words that streamed from him faster than he could stop them. "Because I trusted him with everything, and I mean _everything. _If I ever had any problems I could go to him and he would fill in for a father that was too busy chasing you-" he jabbed a finger at Steve who looked away a little guiltily, "-through the arctic to be bothered with his 'impossible' son. And Obie gave me everything I asked for, taught me how to survive in a world of sharks and vipers, was the only friend someone like me could ever really have. He was all that kept me going and he _lied. _I trusted him and he would have seen me dead without a second thought. He'd have gone to my funeral and mourned for my loss and the whole world would believe him because no one could have thought anyone could be that cold hearted. But he was.

"When Obie died I swore to myself that I'd never be that naive again, that I'd never let myself be fooled so badly into seeing good where there was only hatred. And then there was Hammer. I mean sure, I never trusted the guy, I wasn't born yesterday. But I believed his smile enough that I didn't think it wise to keep an eye on him, trusted him in the most foolish way I could; I let him do as he pleased. And my stupidity almost cost me Pepper and Rhodey. If anything had happened to them I can honestly say I wouldn't still be breathing because I couldn't have dealt with that. So I made myself swear again that I would protect them, that I would get smart, start being realistic and stop being so damn predictable because all you have to do is show me a lost cause and I'm already invested.

"But then of course, Fury had to show me the Avengers Initiative and if that wasn't a lost cause I don't know what is. I had to be a part of it and the stupid thing is, I don't even know why. I didn't know any of you, it wasn't like we were great pals. All I know is that I saw a train wreck and I dived for it."

The room had gone very still as Steve and Bruce listened to the outpouring of their teammate, totally thrown for a loop. For all his talking, Tony didn't normally _say _this much. He didn't touch his feelings with a ten foot pole if he could help it and he definitely did _not _mention Obadiah. Not ever.

"And so here we are and for a little while there I thought that maybe I had been wrong and this actually had a hope of working but I was wrong, again. 'Cause I forgot my vow again. I trusted you. All of you, more than anyone else. Did you know that besides Pepper, Rhodey and Happy, the team and Fury are the only people to know about the shrapnel in my chest? And Yinsen? Even Fury doesn't know about him - unless Romanoff or Barton ratted me out, but somehow I doubt it. I thought that I'd finally found some people that I could trust that weren't about to turn around and stab me in the back like everyone else."

"Tony, you can trust us!" Bruce sounded like he was in pain and his form seemed to have shrunk into the sofa he was sat on, curling into himself. Steve just sat there, staring blankly at the billionaire, his mouth hanging open slightly as he processed everything that had just happened.

"Well, apparently I can't!" Tony's hands were clenched so tightly that his fingers were pulsing with pain at the mistreatment.

"What do you mean?" The Captain seemed to have found his voice even though it was quiet and raspy.

"I mean that you can dance around it all you like but I heard you. The day I left. The day I was taken. I _heard _you." Both of them just blinked at him, giving the billionaire a look that appeared as though they were questioning his sanity.

"Heard us saying what?"

"You were talking about me. Maybe you don't remember. I guess it wouldn't stand out on your 'bizarre radar.'"

"Wha...? Tony, I have no idea what you're on about." Bruce nodded in agreement, his face twisted with grief.

"You're actually just going to flat out deny it?"

"Deny what?"

"That I'm not worth your time! That I don't deserve to be on this team!" And as soon as the words were out of his mouth, the anger slipped away and the only emotion to replace it was a deep sense of loss. A primitive part of him recognised this as the end it was and he mourned the loss of what he had had while at the same time sighing in relief to be free from its shadow. Steve and Bruce looked a little shell shocked and it was obvious that neither of them could formulate a response to that right now. "You know what? Deny it all you want. I don't care anymore. Just be out of here by tomorrow and don't try and see me again."

Without further comment, accusation or even look, Tony swept from the room, knowing full well that he would probably never see his 'friends' again. The thought burned like fire.

* * *

_I don't much like this. I think I made Tony too weak in parts. But there we go. We move on. This story isn't quite finished yet - I need some time to make Tony a badass again. One of the reasons this took as long as it did was that I wrote a chunk of about a thousand words and then had to scrap it all cause it was such crap. Then this happened and I honestly didn't have the heart to start again so I just ran with it. _

_Love you all. _


	10. Chapter 10

_I think my muse is ill or something. She's been unusually quiet recently so if this chapter sucks, I'm really sorry. I'll make sure she does better next time._

* * *

There was a long, drawn out moment where the world ceased to turn and civilisation ground to a halt whilst the shock wore off and the dust settled. And then Bruce was moving. He was out of his seat like a bolt and darting after Tony only to end up outside the locked door of his lab, being told by a somewhat sympathetic Jarvis that his access had been revoked.

The doctor sensed more than heard Steve come up behind him, a reassuring presence at his shoulder.

"He won't let you in?"

"No. He knows I'm here but I don't think he wants to see either of us right now. Coming here was a bad idea," he lamented, turning away from the door slowly and making his way back up the stairs.

"No it wasn't," Steve reassured him, following him away from the door. "We can't just ignore this. This is something we have to sort out ourselves."

"And what happens tomorrow morning when we get kicked out of the house? I don't doubt that Tony will follow through on that threat." Steve grimaced at the doctor, worry and concern etched into the lines on his face.

"No, neither do I. But we can't just leave him. You saw him, he's a wreck right now and there has to be something we can do to help him."

They reached the living room and settled themselves in the open space, both casting furtive glances around the room subconsciously, suddenly aware of how many cameras were likely focussed on them in that particular moment. They not been to the mansion before and it was strange to be somewhere unfamiliar; they'd gotten too used to the tower and the helicarrier.

"So what do we do? If Tony isn't going to listen to us..."

"I honestly don't know." Steve hesitated, looking torn. "Bruce, I hate to ask but... Do you know what he was on about? What he thought we'd said?"

"No!" Bruce snapped back, doing his best to contain his anger at the accusation; he was already rubbed raw by how _wrong _this whole scenario was and he could feel his tremulous control slipping. "I didn't even see you that day until we knew Tony had been taken!"

"I know. But I just had to make sure."

"I take it you said no such thing either?"

"Of course not! I don't even think that, let alone voice such an opinion."

"So what happened? Tony was probably overtired but hallucinations seem unlikely. Jarvis? Can we see the records from the tower the day Tony was taken?" The AI beeped softly as he processed the request before:

"Forgive me Dr Banner but Mr Stark has locked all surveillance from that day. I do not have sufficient authorisation to unlock the files."

"Captain Rogers! Dr Banner!" Pepper sounded genuinely surprised, an unusual tone for her; it took a lot to catch her off guard.

"Miss Potts! Sorry for the intrusion," Steve apologised, standing as she walked into the room, a frown marring her pretty face.

"I had no idea you would be coming down here. Tony hasn't exactly been... communicative recently."

"Actually," Bruce corrected apologetically, "Tony didn't know we'd be coming. We... Well. He left without warning and given recent events we were worried about him."

"He didn't tell you he was coming here? Why not?" A look passed between the two Avengers and they shared a silent communication; Tony trusted Pepper with anything and yet he hadn't told her about his suspicions which must mean he either wasn't entirely sure of what he had heard or this was a bigger problem than they realised.

"We're not exactly sure Miss Potts," Steve told her calmly, no trace of a lie in his voice. "We want to talk to him but he won't let us into the lab."

Pepper didn't say anything in response to that, just sat down in one of the chairs and stared into the distance, looking concerned and upset and completely heartbroken. Bruce found himself looking away to give her this moment in peace, seeing Steve do the same out of the corner of his eye.

"I'll go and talk to him," she said eventually, sounding more weary than they had ever seen her. "I can't guarantee anything. But whatever this is - and whatever you're not telling me - it's important. And I can't stand to see Tony like this." With that she rose and strode out of the room, leaving the two Avengers staring after her in awed surprise.

* * *

"Pepper, I know what you're going to say and no I'm not going to talk to them."

"Something's not right here Tony and I'll be damned if I'm going to just sit here silently and watch you torment yourself day after day!" The billionaire flinched at the edge of hurt in his girlfriend's voice and felt guilt swell up within him. His eyes dropped to the metal scraps strewn across the workbench between them.

"I can't do it Pep," he admitted softly. For a second she looked like she was about to argue back but then she sighed and rubbed at her eyes tiredly, reaching across to squeeze his hand comfortingly.

"Tony they're part of your team. I don't know what they did to you, and I'm not going to ask. This is between you and them. But I can still remember the month after you came home from Afghanistan and I will _not _watch you spiral down like you did then. I almost lost you _so many _times and I can't bare it anymore Tony," she told him, her voice soft but firm and Tony felt the guilt amplify at the idea of just how much he hurt her.

"If I go up there and face them... I honestly don't know if I'd walk out of that room the same person Pepper," he warned, making eye contact for the first time. "There's too much... I can't deal with this. Not right now."

"You have to deal with it Tony, it's not just going to go away. Listen to me." She stepped around the edge of the workbench and gripped his shoulders with slender fingers, forcing him to face her. "I have been at your side for more years than I can count and I have sat by silently and watched you overcome everything you have ever faced. You survived Afghanistan when anyone else would have just given up and as soon as you got back you threw yourself into Ironman and a new direction for Stark Industries, and then on top of that you had to deal with Obadiah. And Tony, _you survived._ When Hammer turned on us it barely made you blink. Even after the hell of New York you bounced back, learned from your scars instead of letting them take you down. And now there's this." Her voice became very soft and she stroked his cheek softly, her eyes swimming in barely contained tears. "You _can _do this."

Tony stood there, emotions spilling out in all directions as he listened to the one woman who had ever touched his heart telling him that he was stronger than he realised. That he could weather this storm. That he was worth the fight. And it was all so much to deal with that he couldn't help but reach for her, drawing her slender frame into the shadow of his and holding on for dear life. She melted into his touch, softening into his curves while her face pressed gently into his neck, warm breath tickling his collar bone.

Neither of them moved from the embrace for a good few minutes, letting their emotions settle and enjoying the intimacy.

"I know that I'll never be able to tell you this enough but I honestly wouldn't survive without you Pep," he said softly, rubbing circles on her back. "I can never show you how much I need you. How much I love you."

"You don't have to," she told him, pulling back to look him in the eyes, a slight smile on her lips. "You're all I have too you know."

It wasn't even true anymore, for either of them - the Avengers had become family without anyone really noticing - but the old memory stirred and Tony found himself smiling despite everything.

"I'll talk to the others. I promise Pep."

"Thank you," she told him genuinely, hugging him again and pulling away. "I really think that it's for the best Tony."

* * *

When the billionaire walked into the room Steve couldn't help but think that Pepper was some sort of genius and definitely deserved a medal for her accomplishments. Tony was standing ramrod straight, looking as though he was in pain but despite the pale skin and tired eyes there was a fierceness in his stance that was more than a little frightening.

_'So,' _Steve thought, _'this is the sort of man that can escape captivity with no training. The sort of man that would fly through a portal to save a city.' _A trickle of admiration ran through his system.

"I'll listen to what you have to say. Beyond that I make no promises," Tony told them in a clipped tone, everything about him screaming discomfort.

"Thank you for giving us the chance," Bruce told him sincerely but the billionaire just sneered slightly.

"Thank Pepper. Now say what you have to say." Steve nodded slowly, taking a deep breath for fortitude.

"Tony. We came here because we were worried about you. You just went through hell and then when you just disappeared without warning... You're our friend, and no matter what that isn't about to change."

"And what you heard the day they took you," Bruce put in, "we didn't say it. I swear to you. Whatever you heard, it wasn't us. I don't know how it happened or who did it but we would never say those things Tony. You're a valued member of the team and you always will be."

The genius didn't say anything in response, narrowed eyes flickering between the two of them, trying to spot the lie and desperately trying to crush the hope that swelled in his chest. They could be telling him the truth in which case he was being a colossal idiot but what if this was all just another charade?

"Jarvis?"

"Yes Sir?"

"Do your records indicate any suspicious activity from September 4th? Authorisation code alpha-2-2-5-delta." The machine whirred for a moment.

"I have no record of any tampering with surveillance Sir." There was a pause during which black rage filled Tony's gut and curled his hands into fists while at the same time disappointment flooded him. "However, there is a complication of data." All three Avengers looked at the ceiling in surprise.

"A complication?" Bruce asked the AI when it became clear Tony wasn't emotionally stable enough at that moment to speak.

"I am unclear as to the cause Dr Banner. There is no record of any data transfer from the day in question however there is a disruption in my files that indicate someone has accessed them."

"Accessed them from where?" Tony gasped out, falling into a seat heavily looking like he was inches away from a break down.

"I am unable to say Sir."

"If it was a hack they would have left a trace. Find it."

"There is no such evidence Sir," Jarvis told him firmly. "However if my server was accessed locally then it would not necessarily have been picked up on by my sensors."

"Your servers are within Stark Tower Jarvis. No one but Pepper and I even have access to that floor."

"Records indicate that the lift stopped at that floor twice on the 4th of September Sir."

There was a long moment of silence where Tony's eyes snapped to Bruce automatically, the only other genius in the room but he looked just as confused. Steve didn't really have any idea what was going on but he was catching up fast enough to work out that this wasn't exactly good news.

"Accessed by who?" The billionaire asked eventually, every muscle in his body pulled taught with stress.

"By you, Sir."

* * *

_I don't much like this chapter. But we make do. It's also not very long, sorry about that. I just felt that I needed to post something._

_Yay Pepperony. Consider this payment to the people who have been waiting for an update to Always You for what? Two months? I'm getting there, I promise._

_Basically, I'm doing Nanowrimo but I'm bending the rules around. My plan is writing 60,000 words instead of the 50,000 plan but I'm splitting it up. Half on FF and half on my own manuscript. This is going to go so terribly. I'm already about 4000 words behind._

_So, I'm going to come clean. This is one of the most popular stories I've posted on this site and frankly, it's terrifying. You're all being so supportive and lovely about what I post but the problem is that now when I'm writing I'm very aware that there is quite a large number of people that are going to read this and I don't know why but it makes me far more nervous than I should be. I think that's why this chapter took so long. I'll get over it I'm sure but please just hang in there. Thank you so much for being lovely readers. You're all brilliant.  
_


	11. Chapter 11

"I didn't go anywhere near that floor," Tony retorted instantly, frowning at the implication. "I never go down there unless there's a problem; I can access Jarvis' systems from just about anywhere - there's rarely a need."

"So who was in the lift?" Bruce was trembling slightly, a light wash of green across his face.

"There's a surveillance camera in there that runs constantly. Jarvis can you pull up the footage?" The AI whirred softly as he searched through his data, until a video appeared on one of the screens on the wall. The three of them waited with barely contained nervousness as the video started, only for Tony to curse under his breath as the image descended into static, only a vague blur visible. "They had an electronic scrambler," he observed, sounding strangely impressed.

"Those aren't easy to come by. If it was bought legitimately there will be records," Bruce said, his brow creased in thought. Steve knew that there was nothing he could offer to this conversation and stayed silent, glancing between his two teammates in confused concern.

"Jarvis, start looking through any sales records you can find for anything that fits. Ignore individual sales - they're clearly not stupid enough to make themselves that obvious. Focus on small businesses that bought low quantities." He thought for a moment, staring blankly and the now dark screen. "Scramblers are hard to buy but if you know what you're doing it's possible to make one yourself, problem is you'd need a very specific circuit board..." he trailed off, grabbing a tablet off the table and beginning to tap away at it hurriedly.

Steve just looked at Bruce who shrugged back at him; of all the ways they had expected this conversation to go, this was not one of them. Tony seemed to sense the tension in the room and his muscles tightened, his fingers pausing in their mad dance on the machine. He spoke without looking up.

"I owe you guys an apology I guess," he said softly, giving nothing away. "I'd ask that we deal with this after we've caught the bastard that took me." His tone made it clear that it wasn't just a suggestion so Bruce and Steve just ducked their heads in agreement, acknowledging the need to prioritise.

"I'll call the others. Tell them we have a situation." The billionaire looked up at that.

"No, wait!"

"Tony we have to tell them. They can help us."

"No, I agree with that part," he said, making a dismissive motion with his hand. Steve raised his eyebrows in disbelief. "Look, if they're still after me there is a good chance I'm under surveillance and so, by extension, are you. At the end of the road there's a pay phone. I never use it so I doubt they'll have it bugged but either way keep the conversation as short as possible. There's quarters on the counter." He nodded in that vague direction. Steve murmured an agreement and snatched up the coins, leaving the room with an inaudible sigh of relief; the tension in there had been overwhelming.

For the entire walk to the phone Steve was jittery, eyes flickering at every sound or movement. He knew that he must look crazy to the casual observer and downright suspicious to anyone keeping tabs on Tony but he couldn't help it. If he was honest with himself, technology in this century freaked him out, despite Bruce and Tony's assurances to the contrary; the idea that anyone, anywhere could be watching him right now on a computer screen gave him the creeps. And whoever they were up against now clearly knew their way around the territory if they'd had enough knowledge to get around a Stark security system. Steve understood enough to know that something like that was practically impossible.

He kept the phone conversation short as promised, no doubt annoying Natasha who already sounded irritable before disconnecting with a swift "Watch your backs" and hurrying back to the house. It was growing dark outside and the streetlamps were just flickering into life when he made it to the front door; he blinked in surprise as he noticed how late it had become.

He returned to the living room to find it deserted and sighed to himself, trying to massage away a growing headache as he headed towards the lab. He'd never been in this one and he just prayed that Tony would let him in.

He did. Though not without _encouragement_ from Bruce; the Captain shot the doctor a grateful look.

"So what're we going to do about all of this?" Tony didn't look up from the screen he was poking at that was covered in rows and rows of figures and symbols - it might as well have been ancient Greek to the soldier. Bruce rolled his eyes at the billionaire.

"Tony's trying to find an electronic trace on whatever it was that messed with Jarvis' systems but so far everything looks clean-"

"It'll be there!" Tony snapped without looking at them. "There's always something, always a trail and I'll find it. I just have to keep looking." Neither Bruce nor Steve wanted to comment on the slightly desperate tone in the billionaire's voice.

* * *

It was a good two hours or so before the rest of the team arrived in a quinjet piloted by a random S.H.I.E.L.D agent - it became clear that Clint and Natasha were too busy to fly it themselves, instead spending the time looking through all the information that Tony had sent over. Steve and Bruce greeted the three of them quietly, directing them all down to the lab with strict instructions to Thor to not touch anything - Tony's orders.

"What are we looking at Tin Man?" Clint swept into the lab and settled himself on top of a cupboard within moments, earning him a frown from the billionaire.

"Is that an assassin thing or a Clint thing?" He returned bluntly.

"Do you see _me _climbing on the furniture?" Natasha shot at him with an eyebrow raised in mock offence. Steve was somewhat relieved to see a smile quirking the corner of Tony's mouth; he wondered just how long it had been since he'd seen the billionaire look anything other than uncomfortable and came up with a blank. He hadn't realised how much he'd missed it.

"Point taken. Anyway, short answer? I have _no _idea." He sounded greatly irritated and the smile slipped from his face, replaced by a strange blend of a pout and a frown. "Whoever did this was good. Not my level good but easily genius level."

"Does anything dampen your ego?" Clint sounded annoyed but he was smiling fondly at the billionaire.

"Nothing so far Feathers," he replied and ignored the way the lie burned his throat. He still couldn't really process everything that had happened - after all this was over he was going to need a few days at least to get his head straight. "Either way, I think it's pretty safe to assume that Q is ultimately behind this but I don't think he was the one engineering the electronics. Whoever created the programme they put into Jarvis should already be on S.H.I.E.L.D's radar if they're this good - then again with this level of skill it would be child's play to get through your firewalls and he could easily have deleted his own information." Natasha and Clint glared at him but he pretended not to notice. "I have Jarvis scanning S.H.I.E.L.D's database now."

"The Director didn't approve of any such scan," Nat pointed out with a frown.

"Case and point. It is hilariouslyeasy to get into your systems."

"They're not that bad!"

"_Hilariously,_" he repeated, raising an eyebrow against further contradiction. Nat backed down with a glare.

"I thought you were tracing some equipment," Steve said with a frown. "A scrambler...?" Bruce shook his head sadly.

"Everything Jarvis found looked clean. As for the circuit boards themselves, we're - sorry, _Jarvis _is - crosschecking any buyers with names in the database. So far, no hits."

"This guy exists though. He has to be on record somewhere!" Clint sounded angry but no one was really sure who it was directed at. Tony shrugged, doing his level best to appear unconcerned, still trying to maintain that untouchable persona; to Steve it looked a little - or a lot - sad.

"So what do we do?" Thor asked, finally speaking up from where he had been leaning against the wall in silence. "If they are after friend Stark we must find them."

"We're trying big guy," Tony reassured him with a half smile that didn't fool anyone.

"You should get some rest," Bruce told him quietly. "You're exhausted and you've done all you can for tonight - Jarvis can wake you if he finds anything."

The billionaire looked ready to argue but he was betrayed by his own body as a deep yawn escaped him. He glared at the desk in front of him for a moment before rubbing tiredly at his eyes and rising from his chair.

"I guess you're right. I should probably also go and tell Pepper that everything's fine - the appearance of the Avengers isn't really the most reassuring thing to happen in an evening." He left the lab without another word, his tread slow and weary.

It wasn't until he was gone that the two assassins turned on the doctor and Steve.

"So are you going to tell us what the hell is going on? You run off to Stark and then we get here and he's obviously stressed out of his mind... I'm sensing a connection," Nat told them, her voice allowing no space for misunderstanding: they _would _answer her.

"We think someone could still be gunning for him. Wouldn't that stress you out?"

"There's more to it than that and you know it," Clint told them, his voice smooth and deadly. "These people could have made a move on Stark already but they haven't - for reasons as yet unknown - and he's smart enough to have worked that out. For the moment, it looks like he might be safe. And yet the whole time we've been here he's been wound tighter than I've ever seen him."

"And there's the whole thing with him flinching every time either of you talk," Natasha added. Her fists had clenched at her sides and Clint had moved over to stand just behind her shoulder, tensed and ready to back her up as needed. The other three people in the room eyed the duo warily.

"Friends!" Thor admonished after a moment of palpable tension. "We must not fight. We have to be united against this foe."

"I'm not uniting with anyone keeping secrets," Clint told them roughly, the warning clear.

"You're a spy!" Bruce retorted, starting to look angry for the first time. "All you do is keep secrets!"

"Not about things like this," he spat back. "Not about my _friends._" Bruce looked ready to argue back but Steve shook his head at him minutely.

"We might as well tell them. We didn't do anything wrong Bruce." The doctor rubbed at his eyes, looking desperately like he'd rather be anywhere else. Eventually he nodded slowly.

"Fine. We'll tell you."

* * *

When Tony woke up he knew instantly that something was up. He didn't know how he knew other than the fact that it felt like his bones were crawling, a deep sense of _wrong _embedding itself in his chest like a shard of ice. Slowly he reached out across the bed to where Pepper lay, relief flooding him when he felt her warm presence beside him. She stirred slightly at the touch but he hushed her softly, grazing a kiss across her temple before he pulled himself out from under the covers.

Their room was dark but he could still make out the objects in the room with relative ease and he made it to the doorway without incident. Padding quietly through the house he called to Jarvis, only to be met with silence.

The whole house seemed filled with an oppressive stillness that he didn't recognise; he felt his hair stand on end.

_'Get help,' _he told himself, surprised at how calm he was despite the fact that it was obvious something was very, very wrong - shutting Jarvis up was a feat in and of itself, no doubt courtesy of his stalker genius. Despite the fact that he was apparently under attack without having been informed of this, he was a great advantage in the knowledge that this was _his _house and he knew it inch by inch - every nook and cranny. There was nowhere in this house that you could hide from Tony Stark.

He made it to Bruce's room without incident but when he got there the room was empty. That wasn't necessarily odd - no one on the team seemed to follow a regular sleeping pattern except for Cap and it was only two in the morning. He was probably still down in the lab, trying to work out where the hell Jarvis had run off to.

_'He could be in danger,' _he thought to himself though it was rapidly followed by: _'He can take care of himself.' _ Natasha's room was the next closes and he headed towards it, his senses tingling all the while. When that search turned up another empty room he started to panic slightly. _'Stay calm,' _he commanded. _'Check Steve's room.' _

Another blank.

Something was desperately wrong and he could feel his whole body trembling under the force of the adrenaline that pulsed through him.

_'Go to the lab Tony. Get to your suits.' _Without any further thought he took off running, his bare feet making almost no noise against the floor.

When he reached the glass panels he immediately froze, his eyes darting around, trying to take in everything he saw before him. He could see several figures within the room, standing in a loose formation around three more people sat in chairs; a closer look confirmed that Bruce, Steve and Thor were bound in place. Clint and Natasha were nowhere to be seen.

The door in front of him slid open abruptly, pulling him out of his thoughts and drawing his attention to two of the figures, all dressed in black - seriously, these people needed to work on their originality - who stepped forwards. With half a glance Tony identified one of them as Q; the silhouette of that man would be burned into his brain for the rest of his life.

"Well Mr Stark," he said, a wicked grin curving his features harshly. "So good of you to join us."

* * *

_I know this has taken forever. I'm sorry about that._

_Look, I'm posting this cause it was mostly already written but over the last few days I've run into personal issues so I'm really sorry but I don't think I'm going to be writing much for a little while. I hope you can understand that. _

_I just wanted to say a massive thank you to everyone who has taken the time to read the story until now, and has kept coming back despite my terrible update times. This has probably been my most popular story and that's all thanks to your amazing support._

_**Thank you.**_


	12. Chapter 12

It felt like he couldn't breathe, like all the air had been sucked out of the room in a split second, leaving him to choke on the terror that filled him like poison. He was vaguely aware that he had gone pale, that his hands had started to shake and the small part of him that was still in control cursed his own physical tells; it was foolish to be so readable.

"Come," Q called, his voice almost _jolly _as though they were old friends that were being reunited at last. "Take a seat."

One of his chairs was pushed towards him slightly by a nameless goon but Tony ignored it, instead taking a minute to finally see his captor's face now that he wasn't wreathed in shadow. He was older than the billionaire had anticipated, grey flecked throughout the gelled black hair - every strand in its proper place. Wrinkles that couldn't ever be described as laugh lines rimmed sharp grey eyes - _'strange colour,' _he thought to himself - and there was a thinness to his face that seemed unnatural. Despite that though he was still impressively broad, the light now defining the muscles that Tony could see even through the dark material of the clothes he wore (he also noticed that the garments look ill fitting for the man, like he was more accustomed to suits and ties instead of cargo pants and t-shirts). Overall he wasn't someone you'd look twice at if you passed him in the street but at the same time there was an aura around him that the billionaire had long ago learned to recognise as the stench of death. This man was dangerous.

As if he hadn't already known that. As if days of torture hadn't driven that point home enough.

"Please Mr Stark, join us," Q called to him again, still using that annoyingly cheery voice. "It would be a shame if I had to threaten your friends just so that you will sit down." And just like that the cheer was gone from his tone, replaced by ice cold steel.

"You do realise that out of all the people you could choose, you managed to grab probably the three most indestructible men on this planet?" He was almost proud at how neutral he made the words. He could be discussing the weather.

"I see our time together was not enough for you to learn not to underestimate me." Tony had to work very hard not to flinch at the memories that sprung upon him; he pushed them away harshly. "I cannot hurt these three men, of that I'm sure. But I think if I were to shoot the dear doctor here, the rest of your team might not fair so well against the monster." The threat was so heavy in his voice that the billionaire was stifled with it, overcome by images of the scenarios he could imagine all too easily.

Bruce looked physically ill, the green tinge to his skin flickering to reveal bone white pallor beneath; the man was terrified. It was like his worst nightmare had just sprung to life before him and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it - right now he could just about hold the monster inside but if Q subjected him to any form of violence he wouldn't have a chance to stop the Hulk from breaking through.

The Captain was all righteous anger and furious outrage, his body taught within its bindings and his face lined with emotions he couldn't put into words. The threat however seemed to snap his silent exterior. "There are innocent people here! What kind of man are you?" His protestation was halted somewhat when one of the men behind him jabbed the butt of his gun into Steve's head with force, stunning him briefly. Bruce shuddered violently beside him, his anger at his friend being hurt cracking his iron resolve as electric green flickered into his eyes. "I'm alright," the Captain reassured him quietly, not raising his head from where it had slumped. Thor growled softly under his breath, looking for all the world like he was a heartbeat away from exploding himself, his normally princely demeanour dissolving into animalistic rage.

The whole exchange had Tony's heart racing, thundering in his chest loud enough to hear. Without even really thinking about it he sat himself down in the offered chair, suddenly reminded that he didn't have any bargaining power in this exchange; his only option was submit or people he loved -_Pepper _- would be hurt.

_'I'll kill you,' _Tony thought suddenly, the realisation arriving quietly amongst the pounding of his body. _'I don't care what else you do to me but your life will end by my hand, I swear it with every inch of my soul.' _

"Ah, there's a good boy." The patronising edge of the words grated against the billionaire visibly, his shoulders hunching and his face darkening. "That wasn't so hard now, was it? Now, to the matter at hand." Q swept his hand around dramatically, gesturing to the figure that stood beside him who had remained silent throughout the exchange. "I think that by now you are familiar with my friend's work, yes? Dr Tanovitch here is one of the best minds that the electronic world has to offer right now. His work could rival your own Mr Stark," Q told him smugly, his thin lips curling into something that might once have been a grin.

"So you're the one responsible for taking down Jarvis," Tony said, forcing his voice to sound carefully disinterested. "I have to admit that must have taken some doing."

"It was not a simple matter," Tanovitch conceded, his voice distorted slightly by a thick Russian accent. His slender shoulders raised slightly in a shrug. "But then, I am not a simple person."

"I take it I should also thank you for that sound file - a ploy to drive me out of the tower perhaps?"

"That was a stroke of genius," Q jumped in, pride colouring his words. "Even with our resources we couldn't hope to take on the Avengers all at once and if we could we knew that S.H.I.E.L.D would come crashing down on us too quickly for it to have been of any use. It wasn't hard to find voice clips of the good Captain - there are plenty of those from the 40s - but Dr Banner here was more trouble." He moved with long, elegant strides to stand behind Bruce, pale hands fitting themselves over the trembling shoulders. "That required some rather skilful hacking."

"And once you had a sample of a voice clip you could electronically recreate their voices," Tony finished, his voice venomous. "So you decided to trick me, put me in a situation where you knew that I would leave and in doing so put myself at risk."

"We weren't sure. The files S.H.I.E.L.D have of you paint a very different picture to the newspapers and we had no way of knowing who you really were. You could have done as you did and left, fleeing the problem, or you could have stayed and fought. I had hoped you would do the latter - fracturing your little team as you went - but then it was not to be. You ran like a coward." Q's voice had dipped harshly in an instant and Tony had to fight valiantly to stop himself from flinching.

"The Man of Iron is no coward," Thor spoke for the first time, so tight with fury that he was quivering but his voice was quite steady and deadly cold. "If you knew him as you claim to do so you would not dare say such things about a man who has saved your world more times that you can comprehend." There was a sudden cracking noise from a random machine in the lab as electricity sparked along the exposed metal, reacting to the static that had suddenly filled the air.

"What would an alien know of Tony Stark?" Q sneered, distaste written in his stance. He still hadn't released Bruce's shoulders. "You are not even of this planet, you cannot hope to understand us _mere mortals._"

"He's been watching our planet since before your great grandparents were born," Tony spat at him. "He knows more about humans that we do."

_'Keep him focussed on you,' _he told himself. He wasn't about to let this maniac hurt his friends, no matter what it meant for his own safety. He could do the math - he was a genius after all - and he knew that the probability of them all getting out of this unscathed was somewhere below 0.3%. Hardly the best odds he'd ever had.

"You seem very ready to defend people you fled from just days ago," Q retorted, finally releasing Banner who sagged in the absence of the contact. "That is why you came to Malibu alone is it not? Even though it put you at more risk, you still left them all to hide, too scared to face them."

"And I suppose you'd know all about friendships since you're such a swell guy and all," Tony shot back, still desperately trying to think of something that might just get them out of this. "I'll bet you've got loads of them back home right?" The weak jab didn't seem to faze him.

"I don't suppose it matters now. Fury will never give us what we ask for so we must simply take them with force; I had so hoped to avoid this bloody path but there is no other option."

"The whole torture method wasn't exactly bloodless," Tony pointed out, falling back on snark when it seemed that the danger in the room was growing. "You can't go up against S.H.I.E.L.D and hope to survive."

"In an open battle, a fair fight? Of course not. But then, I have no intention of being _fair." _Q smiled and for the first time his impeccable control seemed to slip, revealing the madness that dwelled beneath the polished exterior. "With the snap of my fingers I can end your pathetic little Avengers, leaving the helicarrier hilariously undefended. A few firewalls that can be hacked through to deactivate the defence protocols and then all that's left are a few agents that can be swiftly dealt with." The calm had almost completely melted away now and he stalked towards Tony like a jungle cat would a mouse.

"A few agents? Just highly trained assassins, I'm sure that's nothing to worry about then," he sniped back, muscles clenching as Q stepped within arm's reach; he couldn't attack and risk the safety of the others but if there was an opening he was _going _to take it. Personal consequences be damned.

"Soldiers are only as good as the weapons they carry - the men with the technology always win. Just look at yourself and see my truth. In your suit you cannot be touched, not by anyone but take it away and, well..." The punch, though not totally unexpected, seemed to come out of nowhere, almost knocking him out of the chair he was still perched on. A strangled noise escaped Bruce. "You can see the difference."

Tony took a minute to spit out the blood that spilled from his split lip, compartmentalising the pain in the back of his head - right now he needed to focus. God, where the hell were Natasha and Clint?

_'I'm stalling all I can, get your asses into gear and help us!' _But it didn't seem to matter how hard he wished, no assassin sprang from the shadows to save the day; he shouldn't really have been surprised.

"So what now? You just kill us and go on your merry way? We're not all that easy to kill."

"Some of you, certainly. In fact I wouldn't have the first clue how to end the life of your precious alien-" he gestured vaguely in the direction of Thor, who was watching the pair of them carefully, "-or the monster but the assassins? They are just flesh and bone, no harder to crush than an ant. The same goes for you. And the Captain? I must admit that I am greatly looking forwards to seeing what it takes to kill him." Q leaned into his breathing space, putting his face inches from Tony's who had nowhere to escape to. "But let's get started shall we?" There was a knife in his hand without warning and the billionaire couldn't help how he flinched away, pulling himself out of the chair and trying to skirt around the mad man.

He was a second too slow.

The blade caught his side, slicing through skin and muscle with almost no resistance but the wound was shallow, not central enough to have done any significant damage. Reassuring as that might be, it still hurt like a bitch. Swearing, Tony jerked back, feeling the hard edge of a workbench appear behind him, blocking his only escape route - not that he could go anywhere without them unleashing the Hulk. Blood was trickling down his side, soaking the shirt he wore; it looked worse than it was he decided.

In the background Bruce was practically sobbing with the strain of trying to keep himself under control while Steve whispered useless advice in his ear (as if breathing exercises would be of any use at this stage) and Thor started pulling at his bindings, not even seeming to consider that it might just be cause enough for them to start shooting at Banner.

"Come now Stark, must you drag this out?" Q asked, flicking the blade between his fingers casually. "After all, I don't want to have to spend all day killing you."

* * *

_I know that this is really overdue and really short and I'M SO SORRY. Another chapter shouldn't be half as long, I promise._

_On another note, as some of you have noticed I have posted a teaser chapter for my Avengers multichapter fic after this one is finished, featuring our favourite God of Mischief. I'm super excited about it and I'd really love it if you could go and check it out._

_Ok, shameless pleading over and done with._

_I hope you liked this and I'm sorry again._


	13. Chapter 13

_Tony's a little dark here. FYI._

_Just a short one, since it was dragging too long._

* * *

When a bullet whipped past his shoulder, Tony was ashamed to admit just how long it took him to understand what was happening and duck out of the way.

Slipping into a crouch on instinct, Tony narrowed his world down to the man in front of him with a knife in his hand. He didn't have the luxury of worrying about the mercenaries that were suddenly under attack or Thor leaping out of his bindings with a burst of electricity or even the beginnings of roars coming from a rapidly growing Bruce. If Tony wanted to survive this, he couldn't pay attention to them, he had to focus on Q.

Adrenaline coursed through his veins, instinctive and burning, a fire that scorched away all the fatigue that had been plaguing him for so long. It mercifully blocked out the pain that had been radiating from the gash in his side, the whole area becoming strangely numb.

"Your friends appear at last it would seem," Q observed quietly, his face venomous. "No matter. I'll kill you before they can do anything to save you." The knife glinted in the light.

Around them a war was raging, bullets flying everywhere and people shouting in all directions while lightning crackled across the metal in the room in dancing beams of light. It was chaos except for their little space, this silent standoff between two immense forces. The breath seemed to freeze between them as everything ground to a halt while they eyed each other; there was an unspoken understanding that this was it - only one of them was walking away from this. And like that, it shattered.

Q jerked forwards, hissing like a snake as he slashed the blade at Tony's ribs. Working with his instincts the engineer jerked himself sideways, edging around his attacker to give him the space he needed to manoeuvre.

There was something strange about Q though - his calm demeanour that had lasted throughout this whole ordeal had evaporated, leaving behind a man who seemed to be blindly attacking, more like an enraged animal than a civilised (_psychotic_) human being. The sudden switch was disconcerting.

Tony jumped backwards as the knife came at him again, pulling his chest out of the blade's path but then snapping forwards again and lashing out with a punch of his own that caught Q's shoulder with a solid thump. The elder man staggered, grip on the knife loosening but not failing entirely - _'are you kidding me right now?' _- as he was forced backwards. Not to be deterred, Tony took advantage of his opponent's distraction and grabbed a thin metal rod off one of the workbenches beside him. It was part of one of his suits, a support strut for his forearm but he didn't even notice that, focussing instead on the fact that it was strong but still light enough to swing with sufficient force.

By the time he looked back at Q, the man had recovered and was snarling at him, his hair tousled and his face furious. Abandoning all composure, he surged forwards with his knife in front of him as though it was a lance he could use to skewer Tony but the engineer was ready for him, bringing the metal down in a sweeping arc onto Q's wrist hard enough to elicit a snapping sound but the man _still didn't drop the blade._

_'My god,' _Tony thought wildly, _'does he not feel pain?' _This internal monologue was blindsided though when Q threw his whole body into a tackle, using up his momentum and sending them both to the floor in a great tangle of limbs.

Winded, Tony took a second to comprehend that Q was on top of him, his weight pinning him down and somehow the knife had found its way into the mad man's uninjured hand. It was with a clawing desperation that the engineer discovered the metal rod had fallen out of his reach, irretrievable.

"I told you Mr Stark," Q mocked above him with a cruel smile curving his lips and _damn _he had recovered his composure quickly. "I will destroy you. I took your family, I took your hope. And now, as a final mercy, I'll take your pathetic life." The knife seemed to come down in slow motion and there was a half second where all Tony felt was a deep resignation that sank into his bones but then the other side of him rallied with what was left of his strength, twisting his torso at the last moment so that the knife struck the floor harmlessly. Through sheer dumb luck Tony hooked a leg over one of Q's and used the leverage to surge upwards, dragging the man down as he did so. In an instant their positions had been reversed.

The engineer didn't have a knife, had no weapon other than his own two hands and he used them, fingers tightening around Q's neck without any conscious decision to do so. A part of his mind - one part Iron Man, nine parts Pepper - was screaming at him, trying to remind him that he was about to kill a man in cold blood but he just shoved memories of water boarding at the voice and it silenced itself instantly. Q was scrabbling at his hands, nails drawing blood but he ignored the pain, just clamped down harder. He tried to ignore the impassiveness that filled him.

It takes very little to kill a man and for all his devilry and deception, Q was still human.

Tony didn't know how long it took him to reboot his brain well enough to unlock his fingers from the dead man's throat but it was longer still before he sat back, heaving his weight off the corpse. The movement drew his attention to a strange stretched, tight feeling in his abdomen but he was too dazed to pay the sensation much attention.

"Tony!" Even in the strange haze he could recognise Clint's voice and he found himself automatically turning his head in response to hearing his name. He was greeted by the sight of a battered but uninjured Clint Barton racing towards him, pausing only to stare at him in horror for a brief moment before the emotion was swept beneath a mask.

_'Oh right,' _he realised, almost sadly, _'the killing thing. Not generally accepted and all that.' _

But it took the rest of the time it took Clint to reach him for Tony to notice that the archer wasn't looking at the body in horror or even at him, but at his stomach - the same area that had felt strange before. With some effort, he remembered how to turn his head and looked down to be greeted by red. _Lots _of red.

_'Is that blood? My blood?' _ A quick fumble of the area revealed blinding pain. _'Ok, my blood. What the hell?'_

The subconscious part of his brain stirred, almost as if in an apology for being so remiss. _'I'll do better next time,' _it seemed to say.

Everything felt strange. Clint was still there but his mouth was moving oddly, as though he was speaking but Tony couldn't hear a thing - no roaring in his ears as he might expect, no crackling of hell fire, no chanting of angels. Just silence. It was almost peaceful. There was pain now, since he was finally paying attention but it wasn't the consuming agony the bullet wound had been, it was just like an inconvenient aching that wouldn't quite go away.

Others were appearing now, Natasha with hair that looked like flames against the grey of the world and the Captain who seemed to _shine _with all the goodness inside of him. A bitterness came with the image and he seemed to remember anger but he couldn't recall why - it didn't matter now he supposed.

He was laying down. When had that happened? Hands were over the warm wetness of his stomach, pressing down hard enough to make the pain flare from aching to agony but he didn't know how to cry out, how to plead with them to stop. He had to suffer in silence.

And then he saw her.

_Pepper. _The only one in the world who mattered, the only one who knew him, all of him, and hadn't turned away in disgust. The only one who knew just how much she meant. She looked tousled, the sweats and t-shirt she had been sleeping in rumpled and dusty but she appeared to be unharmed, no difficulty in moving and none of the red that covered him. With his whole heart he thanked whoever was out there to listen.

Somehow (and it hadn't been a conscious move since he had long since lost control of his body) he reached out a hand towards her and she took it as her invitation to rush forwards from the spot where she had been frozen, dropping to his side without hesitation. She didn't shy away from all the red, not disgusted at this intimate part of him but welcoming, always welcoming. Pepper had seen each part of his body and soul and she was still here, kneeling in all the red like it wasn't ruining her clothes or staining her hands. _Beautiful Pepper._

If this was the last thing he saw, he was content.

He let his eyes fall closed.

* * *

_There's going to be one more chapter than initially thought because this one was so short. I don't suppose anyone minds though, do they?_

_And before I get a load of people telling me that 'Tony's too good of a person to kill someone, he wouldn't do that' etc. May I remind you that when he broke out of the cave in Afghanistan he _burned _them? All of them. Not just those he needed to kill to get away. That was not self defence, that was revenge and I think that if something like this happened, he would get to the same result. Because the Tony of my mind is darker than he appears and he is so full of demons it's hard for him to keep anything clear in his mind. He's enough of a villain to do something like this. And that's just my opinion, I'm sorry if you don't like it but it isn't going to change. _

_I think I might be over-whumping Tony in this story... I hope no one minds._


	14. Chapter 14

_Oh my god I'm so sorry._

* * *

Tony came to soaked in his own blood which in itself was something of a surprise - he hadn't expected to wake up quite so soon, or at all. He was conscious again before the medical teams had even turned up but he wished with every bone in his body that he wasn't. The numbness had burned away, leaving only pain and the terrible feeling of cold seeping into blood starved muscles that no amount of wishful thinking could dispel.

Pepper was there though and that was something he was clinging to like a lifeline, his whole being focused on her solid presence at his side.

"Oh god, Tony," she whispered into his hairline, lips ghosting over soft skin like soothing fingers. He thought she might be crying but everything was too blurry for him to get a decent look. "You're going to be just fine ok?" Even in his hazy state he could hear the complete lie in her tone but he was pushed to the point that he was willing to believe her anyway, simply so that he could feel some relief in what could potentially be his last moments.

There were hands on him then, soft yet firm and he was aware that he was being moved. He couldn't see anything anymore and he could feel the darkness filling him up as the pain receded beyond whatever morphine the medics had deigned to give him.

The world fell away from him.

* * *

Beeping.

He knew that beeping. He had heard it before but he couldn't quite place it, lingering just outside of his memory.

_'Can someone turn it off?' _he thought to himself in annoyance. His whole body felt like lead and he had absolutely no intention of doing anything to further wake himself up. If someone would just stop the incessant beeping he could go back to sleep for the next hundred years.

"Tony?" Another noise he knew and this one he instantly recognised. _Pepper. _Sweet and beautiful Pepper. She could make the beeping go away couldn't she? He tried to speak, to tell her but all that came out of his mouth was a garble of half whispered syllables that even to him didn't sound anything like actual speech. "You're awake! Bruce?" The joy in her voice was unmistakable.

"I'll get a doctor," Banner replied and there was the sound of shuffling feet from further off, then the sound of a door.

"Tony!" Pepper said again and oh he lived to hear that voice. "What took you so long?" She was laughing he realised, the relief and happiness sending her emotions in all directions. Apparently they were stuck on 'giddy' for now. He tried to speak again but his throat was too tight to force air through and he just muttered helplessly.

He wanted to ask what was going on, what had happened but his body decided that it was too tired to manage that right now. Distantly he heard the door opening again.

"Mr Stark? Can you hear me?" This voice he didn't know. Too tired to try and speak again he searched desperately for a way to move and eventually located the correct nerve to make his hand twitch lightly. There was more rustling and then a hand was at his wrist, checking his pulse perhaps? "You've been asleep for a very long time Mr Stark. We had almost started to worry," the doctor informed him calmly. Bruce snorted somewhere in the background.

"Natasha actually looked choked up when they brought you in. I was surprised when you didn't wake up right away to take a picture," he mocked gently, sounding more calm than Tony had ever heard him.

The movements around him had woken him a little more and with the wakefulness he strove to take command of his body again, starting with his eyelids that just didn't want to cooperate.

_'Come on Stark, you have six doctorates! How hard could this possibly be?' _It took more time that he would ever admit but eventually he managed to crack one eye open to survey the scene. Thankfully the lights were dim enough that the light didn't burn in the way it sometimes did but he still had to blink several times to bring things into focus.

"Welcome back to the land of the living." The doctor smiled at him, his face open and friendly - he looked like the kind of man that could be that nice uncle you had as a kid. "You've been here for two weeks."

_'Two weeks?!' _His mouth formed the words but no sound came out. His throat burned harshly against the strain.

"I imagine you'll want a drink," the doctor interpreted and he looked up at Pepper expectantly. She was at his side in an instant, one hand sliding into his like it was built to be there; he squeezed her fingers gently. The doctor continued to speak as she began to slide ice chips between his lips, sweet and cold relief to the fire. "You sustained a serious wound to your abdomen Mr Stark. The knife managed to puncture both your intestines and one of your kidneys; you lost a large amount of blood. It took several transfusions just to stabilise you." Pepper's free hand was practically crushing his fingers now but he didn't mind, he was just glad for the contact.

The doctor continued to rattle off injuries but Tony wasn't really listening. He got the impression that though he still had a long and arduous recovery in front of him, the worst was over and provided he followed the medical instructions - _'yeah, that's likely' _- he should be fine in a few months. Physically at least. No one seemed willing to breach the topic of his mental state and that was just fine with him. He didn't need anyone trying to dig through his mind; talking about his problems had never helped him feel better and it didn't make the problems go away. After a little while he became aware that Bruce had slipped out the door and disappeared in silence. He didn't quite know what to think about that.

"Thanks for all the help doc," Tony said eventually, pleased to find that the ice had done its job in loosening his throat. He still sounded half dead though.

"It's a pleasure Mr Stark. Take care of yourself," the man replied with a smile before taking his leave.

Silence reigned for a long moment in which Tony just looked at Pepper and she looked back at him, a thousand emotions on her face and tears glistening in her eyes.

"Hey." He couldn't think of anything else to say. There was a storm trapped in her expression but he couldn't tell how he could do anything to make it better, to make it stop hurting. _God, _she didn't deserve this.

She didn't reply, just let the first tears escape her eyes and then press her face into his shoulder, her fiery hair tickling his neck. Without even thinking about it one arm came up to hold her, his lips finding their way to the top of her head.

"Two weeks Tony."

"I know. I'm so _sorry _Pep," he told her and he had never meant it more. He just hoped it was enough. He lived in constant fear that one day his chaotic life would just be a little bit too much for her to cope with and when that day came he wasn't sure he would be able to survive watching her walk away.

"Promise me," she said, looking up. Her eyes were dry now, glittering with determination. "Promise me that you won't ever do that to me again."

He didn't hesitate. "I'll do everything within my power. I swear to you." She gazed into his eyes for another moment, reading the sincerity there before she sniffed lightly and smiled, the hard lines of her shoulders softening.

There was a knock at the door then and they both looked up to see Bruce peer around it.

"Room for a couple more visitors?" Neither of them had the time to answer before Clint was forcing his way past Bruce anyway, hurling himself into the chair opposite Pepper and grinning at him like a five year old.

"You took your sweet time," was the first thing he said. "Honestly, it's really hard to prank people at S.H.I.E.L.D without you there to hack the cameras."

It was odd but somehow that seemed like the push that everyone else needed to find their footing and soon enough the whole team had piled into the room and were engaging in an easy conversation about nothing of importance. They spoke for what felt like hours but could only have been minutes before Tony found himself drifting again, his frail grasp on reality stuttering as fatigue plagued him. As soon as Pepper noticed his fluttering eyelids she ordered everyone from the room with an authority he was proud of before settling in the chair at his bedside and gripping one of his hands firmly.

"Rest Tony," she murmured softly to him, her thumb stroking the back of his hand. "I'll still be here when you wake up."

* * *

True to her word she was there the next time he opened his eyes, though her presence was somewhat negated by the fact that she was fast asleep, her head resting on a pillow she must have filched from somewhere. She looked so peaceful and relaxed that he couldn't bear to reach out and wake her.

The silence almost convinced him to however, as it grew heavy and stifling, pressing into him like a physical presence. He didn't want quiet. He wanted voices and people, friends to remind him that he was safe, that he wasn't in some god-forsaken torture room, that Q could never hurt him again. Someone seemed to have taken not of his hatred of darkness (most likely Pepper's doing) and there were soft lights glowing dimly to chase away the shadows. It wasn't enough though.

His skin felt too tight and Tony knew that he was panicking and if he didn't calm himself soon then a team of nurses would be rushing in any minute now to find out why his heart monitor was having a fit. At least this was old ground - something he knew. The period after Afghanistan had been one break down after another but he'd learnt how to pull himself back from the edge so that only Pepper could tell when he was half a step away from losing it. More recently Bruce had developed a similar skill but Tony was pretty sure that was only due to the fact that the doctor had to go through the same routine every day.

The bed beneath him was solid yet soft enough to be comfortable. The pillows had been used by too many people to be pleasant. There was a slight stain on the ceiling above him and he didn't want to question how it came to be. Pepper's breathing was slow and steady, barely audible. Someone on crutches was walking down the corridor outside.

His breathing levelled out slightly as his heart slowed, calm settling back into his muscles. This is the present, right here in this moment away from anything that might haunt him, with Pepper at his side.

He fixed that thought in his mind until he drifted again.

* * *

When he next woke up Pepper was gone and that was enough to send him off the rails again, his heart rate spiking instantly.

"Tony! Calm down, everything's okay!" Hands were on his shoulders and his head spun wildly to make eye contact with a very concerned looking Bruce Banner. "Come on Tony, just breathe. You're in the hospital remember? You're safe."

He nodded, unable to find his voice momentarily. There was a weight on his chest that he couldn't shift but if he really concentrated he found he could just about breathe.

"Pepper's just stepped out to make some calls and grab some food. She'll be back soon," Bruce told him, apparently aware of why he was so twitchy. "Actually she only left because I made her - she needed to get out of here for a bit."

Tony nodded again, all too aware of how Pepper could drive herself into the ground worrying about him. "Thank you," he rasped back, grateful when the doctor offered him a cup full of ice chips.

"How are you feeling?"

Tony raised an eyebrow. "It's hard to describe. Almost like I've been stabbed."

Bruce chuckled softly, shaking his head. "And I'm reminded why I'm so glad not to be your doctor. You've got to be one of the worst patients they've ever had."

"I'll make a donation to make up for it. What did I miss?"

"Honestly? Not a whole lot. S.H.I.E.L.D has taken over clean up and is dealing with all the media attention with Pepper's help. The rest of the team have been here mostly."

"You didn't need to be. I know that Barton and Rogers both have a thing about hospitals. You should have sent them home," Tony told him, feeling guilt swell in his stomach. After everything that had happened he just wanted to forget the whole awkwardness between Bruce, Steve and him and let it all go back to the way it was.

"We tried but they weren't going anywhere. They said that they'd put up with a little bit of discomfort if it meant being able to make sure you were alright."

God, now he just felt worse. After everything he had been prepared to believe about Steve, everything he had thought and the man was still willing to endure the discomfort that was probably more like mild PTSD just so that he was sure Tony was okay.

_'You and guilt are turning into best friends aren't you?' _

Bruce must have seen something in his face, read some expression there because his face softened into calm sadness. "I know that you probably don't want to talk about what happened, now or ever, but you can't avoid this forever. It isn't just going to go away."

"I know that," Tony snapped, suddenly irritable. He was a little surprised at his own sudden change in mood. "Just... not now, alright?"

There was a pause as Bruce eyed him carefully before the doctor nodded. "Alright Tony. Not now."

* * *

As it turned out it would be a while before Bruce had another chance to bring it up. Pepper rarely left his side and thankfully the doctor understood not to bring up the topic in her presence. Despite the fact that Tony knew he was nearby, Steve seemed to be avoiding him like the plague - since he had woken up a week ago he had seen him a grand total of twice, one of which was a very brief encounter when the soldier appeared to drag Natasha away for a meeting with Fury.

So, he was being avoided. He could hardly say that he didn't deserve it - he'd basically told the man that he didn't trust him, that he barely considered them friends even though that was so far from the truth it was painful. Steve was never going to forgive him for this.

It was strange how his anger and hurt had morphed so suddenly into self loathing and guilt. He wasn't really sure which was worse.

He had allowed himself to believe that Steve and Bruce weren't really his friends - not without due cause of course - and then he had done something he would forever regret: he had run. Run straight into an ambush which had gone from bad to worse and culminated with having to be rescued by the very people he had been fleeing. And then after all that he had learned that the reason for all of this torment was nothing more than a fiction, a synthetically created audio file that had never actually been voiced.

"Where did everything go so wrong?" He murmured to himself to fill the silence that had once again pervaded his room as Pepper slept on the sofa off to the side. He had sent Thor and Barton on their merry way an hour ago, too caught up in his own thoughts to offer pleasant company. If he was going to be miserable there was no reason everyone else should suffer along with him. The red head snuffled in her sleep and he glanced over at her, his whole body softening at the sight of her relaxed form.

Even in the soft lighting you could tell she was beautiful.

With a gentle sigh he cast his eyes around for the tablet Clint had smuggled him from his apparently trashed lab. That was another job he would have to work on when he was finally released. He spotted the small glass rectangle at the end of his bed, just out of arm's reach. Without thinking about it he lurched his body forwards to grab it but before his fingers reached it his whole body seemed to burst into flames.

He collapsed back against the pillows as fiery pain ate up his torso, gripping his lungs hard enough to make his breathless. It felt like getting stabbed _again. _With vague awareness he realised that his heart rate monitor was shrieking a warning and Pepper was startling away so badly she fell off the sofa with a soft thump.

"Tony!" She was at his side before she'd shrugged off sleep completely, blinking rapidly as she tried to focus. "Tell me what's wrong!" Her voice was high, stressed.

He didn't have time to answer before nurses were swarming into the room like bugs, flitting around to check the equipment and taking very little notice of the confused, terrified red head who was forced into the corner. The pain was still flooding his system, overloading his senses until he couldn't tell what was going on around him.

Just before he blacked out he felt the welcome ice of morphine leaking into his arm.

* * *

_You know the follower count on this story has passed 1000? The thought that there are 1000 people out there in the world that appreciate my writing and even notice my existence is probably the most amazing thing in my life right now. So __**thank you. **__I honestly can't say it enough._

_And I'm so sorry for this chapter taking so long. I had exams and moving and life and it just all got muddled. _

_I know that I said this would be the last chapter but it turns out there's still one more to go :) Which makes it up to a nice 15 chapters. _


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